Before the Fall (Season Two)
by Jet Engine
Summary: (GF spin-off. Takes place inside the portal.) Now that Ford and his friends are living in Dimension 52, everything seems peaceful. Little do they know, their new home will bring new secrets, and one of which will shake everything Ford thought he knew about the Pines family. Back on Earth, Stan takes in a woman who may pose a bigger threat than either of them realize. HIATUS
1. Prologue

**Warning: This season may be hard to understand if you haven't read Season One.**

 **Special thanks to Barbacar for giving me the idea for this prologue, which takes place before this fanfic series.**

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 **Prologue**

The bar in Dimension B78SemiColon had always had the best drinks. Bill had been to every dimension in the multiverse at least once, but nothing topped the drinks at Pyro's. The best part? Bill got free drinks, since he was old pals with the owner. So, he sat on the stool, ordered his usual, and waited.

"Gimme the cheapest, most expired beverage ya got."

Well, well. Bill certainly hadn't expected _him_ to appear in the seat beside him. "Tad Strange?"

The square blue dream demon looked up, his two eyes widening in shock that quickly morphed into disgust. " _You_? What in Beelzebub's name are _you_ doing here?"

Bill shrugged. "Oh, you know. Planning stuff, drinking other stuff." His wine came, and he thanked the four-armed bartender before giving Tad a once-over. "What happened to you, Strange? You look like a dog ate you, puked you back up, and ate you again."

"First of all, _ew_." Tad's drink arrived, and he said a brief thanks in response before glaring back at Bill. "And, second, since when do you care about my problems?"

Bill ignored the comment. "You smell funny. Like, you bathed in gasoline and lit yourself on fire." Tad's grip tightened on his glass. If Bill's mouth was detached from his eye, he would have been smirking. "Oh? Did I strike a nerve?" He sipped his wine. "Alright, Strange, you got me curious. What's going on? If I recall correctly, you aren't usually the drinking type."

Tad rolled his eyes. "I don't see how it's your business, Atbash." Bill decided to, for now, ignore the use of his real last name. Tad sipped his drink from one eye and scowled. " _Blech_! I hate tequila when it's _not_ expired."

"Then, why did you order it?" Bill quipped.

Scowling even more, if such a thing was possible, Tad gulped down the rest of his tequila in one swig and shuddered. Which meant he was either bad with alcohol or _really_ hated the taste. Knowing him, it was probably both. "Listen, Atbash-"

"It's Cipher-"

"I don't know why you're here or why you're suddenly so interested in-"

" _Bill_!" Someone wrapped literally flaming arms around him from behind. They didn't hurt, and Bill knew immediately where they came from. "It's so nice to see you drop by! _Oh_ , I could just eat you up! Literally, I-I should totally eat you, right now."

"Please don't." Bill struggled out of her grip and turned to face her. "Nice to see you too, Pyronica. This is-" He tried to introduce Tad, but the only indication that he had been there was an empty glass and the payment for the drink. "Huh. Where'd he wander off to?"

Pyronica took Tad's place on the stool. Lighting a pink and purple cigar with the flames on her arm, she asked, "Who?"

"This guy I know, Tad Strange."

"Um, blue square?"

"You know him?"

Pyronica took a hit from her cigar before answering. "Well, I saw him leaving the bar, but I've seen him before. Pretty recently. It's kind of a funny story. Have you heard about the fire?"

Bill had; it was easy to know things when you could peer into other dimensions at will. Plus, word of the huge magical fire right there in Dimension B78SemiColon had spread almost as fast as the actual fire had. An entire city - a rather large one at that - had been incinerated, and hundreds had either perished or acquired fourth degree burns (which were like third degree burns, but magic).

Bill took another sip. "What about it?"

Pyronica licked her lips and twirled her cigar in her fingers. "Well, a couple days ago, I shot myself out of a cannon-"

"Again?"

"I had a reason this time. It was a publicity stunt." She shrugged. "Business had been slow up until then. Anyway, I landed on a bunch of gold fire that kind of...spread. I later found out that the poor thing was practicing his fire-magic, and I'd just wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Also, I _really_ misjudged how far away the crash pad was. The impact with the ground shocked me into losing control of my own magic, and Tad freaked out too, I guess. Next thing you know, the whole forest is up in smoke, and neither of us can figure out how to put it all out. It's been all over the news since. Fortunately, I got away from the fire in time, and Tad wasn't accused of anything either. According to the news though, he wasn't lucky enough to get off unscathed, if you know what I mean."

Well, that explained why Tad had smelled like burnt toast. "Wait, they're _still_ playing that story? Didn't that fire happen last week?" And, Tad _still_ smelled like charcoal? Of course, if the flames were magic, he supposed that made sense.

Pyronica shrugged. "You know how the media is. If there's a story, they'll air it until something better comes up."

Bill chuckled lightly, remembering why he was here in the first place: to tell his old friend about a certain development. "I have a feeling something better will be coming up real soon."

"Oh?" Pyronica grinned. "You got something cool in the making?"

"Pyro, my friend, let me tell about a man named Stanford Pines."

 **GSV WZIPVHG HVXIVGH YFIM GSV YIRTSGVHG.**

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 **Will we be seeing more from Pyronica? I don't know. Will we be seeing more from Bill? Absolutely! Review!**


	2. Baby Steps (Part One)

**Summary: Violet's first steps come at a price as she discovers one of her powers.**

 **Behold the first episode! It's cute! It's very cute! Violet's cuteness should be outlawed!**

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 **Chapter One: Baby Steps (Part One)**

 _A Mutant's Development_

 _Now that I am a father, I have deemed it necessary that I do a little research on a mutant child's growth._

Beneath this, a drawing of a baby Violet. Next to this was an arrow pointing to an adult Nadia. Caption: _Did Nadia look like Violet as an infant?_

 _Little information found._ _Development varies. Some born with intelligence, some grow at the rate of a human, others much slower. Violet seems to be a little slower than a human. The doctor informs me that this is nothing to worry about, but I can't help it. Maybe it's because I'm a first-time parent, but Violet is three years old. I feel like she should be walking by now, but the most she ever does is crawl. She's tried standing a few times, but she fell down each time. Imagine my horror when Starclops tried to teach her to go down the stairs, her excuse being, "How else is she gonna learn?" I love Starclops like a sister, but her thought processes both fascinate and irritate me. I'm just glad I found them before Violet could roll down more than two stairs. Banged her head on the second one, started crying. The sight both broke my heart and made me wish Starclops had a neck so that I could strangle her._

 _One nice thing: what Violet lacks in movement, she makes up for in speech. Seriously, since she started talking, she can't seem to stop! You'd think it would be annoying, but it's actually kind of cute._

 _I'll never forget the moment she spoke for the first time. She was about two years old, and I was putting her down for a nap. The little one was already half-asleep in my arms. I lay her down in her small bed (crib was too small at this point)._

A drawing of the sleeping toddler, swaddled in a blanket. Caption: _Cute!_

 _I had just laid her down when Violet looked up at me with sleepy eyes. She yawned and just before drifting off, she said, "six."_

 _Needless to say, I teared up a little._

 _My baby girl's first word could have been anything. I had been expecting something traditional, like "mama" or "dada." But, no. Out of every word in every language in the multiverse: six. The number of fingers on each of my hands. Hands that I loathed because they made the other kids called me a freak. I'd lived a good portion of my life thinking that my extra fingers were a bad thing. And, yet...that number was the first coherent thing out of my baby's mouth. Sure, it could have easily been passed off as a coincidence, but I_ know _she was looking at my hands when she said it._

 _Of course, Starclops couldn't resist ruining everything and joking that Violet meant to say "sex." Seriously, someone give that woman a neck for me to strangle!_

"Papa, Papa, Papa!" Violet's high voice interrupted him. Ford turned away from his writing. His daughter was gripping the side of his desk with her fingerless hands. Her toeless feet scrambled on the carpet, and Ford was just about to warn her of rug-burns, when she started speaking again. "Watch me, Papa! I'm-I'm gonna- I'm gonna stand up and I'm gonna do it and I'm gonna stop-stop holding this and I'm gonna stand by myself like-like you and like Mom and like a big girl and-"

Ford bit down on his lip to keep from laughing, as Violet kept babbling and trying to get her legs to hold her up. Eventually, she managed to get upright and let go of the desk, only to plop down on her bottom and start the cycle again.

Ford grinned at her determination. "Violet, I don't think doing that is going to-"

Then, Violet started chanting, "I can do it, I can do it," until she fell down again. She looked down and was silent for so long that Ford knelt down in front of her, worried that she was going to cry. Then, he gasped in shock, when she shouted, "I CAN DO IIIIIIIIITTTTTT!"

At that, Ford couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. He heard someone else laughing behind him and stood up. His wife used the opportunity to wrap her arms around his midsection from behind. His heartbeat paused as he felt her lean her head against his shoulder.

"She still doing it?" Nadia asked.

Maybe it was Violet's antics, but suddenly Ford felt rather playful. He grabbed one of Nadia hands and spun around, twirling her giggling self in the process. He then pulled her to him and wrapped his own arms around her. She was still giggling when she looked up him with those soft lavender eyes that genetics had graciously given their daughter.

Ford finally answered the question. "Can't say she isn't trying."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Starclops appeared between them, startling them out of each other's arms. "Cut the romantic crap! I told you; if anyone's gonna scar that child for life, it's gonna be _me_."

Tad picked Violet up off the ground. "Maybe comments like that are reason you're _not_ allowed to babysit anymore."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "I thought she wasn't allowed 'cause of the stairs."

The demoness in question rolled her eye and groaned. "You push the toddler down the stairs _one time_."

Not wanting to hear anymore - because, honestly, _none of them_ liked that story, except _maybe_ Starclops - Ford clapped once. "Okay! I think this would be a great time to change the subject! Violet how's about we get to your schooling for the day, hm?" Since she was unable to walk (and since kids in this dimension didn't go to school until the age of five), Ford and Tad had been homeschooling Violet.

"I think that's a great idea," Tad said.

"Yeah!" Violet wiggled in the demon's grasp. "Put me down! I wanna walk to class."

"Class in here," Tad pointed out. But, Violet was persistent in stating that she could "walk like a 'Jip-sin.'" Ford made a mental note to teach her how to pronounce words like "Egyptian" and to ask her where she even heard that word in the first place. Tad shrugged. "Okay. If you insist."

Tad carefully place Violet down on her feet. Violet staggered a little but kept her balance. She took her first step.

And, landed face-first on the carpet.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Nadia asked fretfully, bending to her daughter's level.

Violet lifted her head up and spat out some fuzz. "I hurt my face." Suddenly, she grinned. "Let's learn something, Papa! Let's learn something, Tad!" She crawled over to the small pink chair that was across from the chalkboard on the wall.

Starclops sighed, but there was no annoyance in her voice when she said, " _Kids_. That's why I don't have any."

"And, the multiverse thanks you for feeling that way," Tad quipped.

Ford and Nadia stifled laughter, and Starclops remarked, "I'll have you know that if I had babies, they would be the best fuuu…" she glanced over at Violet, who was now in her chair, smiling with her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, "...uuudging babies you've ever seen."

"Starclops, if you ever have kids, and they _don't_ turn out as demented as you are, then I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat."

"Then, I'll buy a hat and eat it."

"Yoooooooooo-hooooooooooo!" Violet sang, waving wildly. "I'm ready for learning! I'm gonna learn _so_ much!"

Nadia nudged her husband toward the eager toddler. "Well, the girl's ready. Better not keep her waiting, or she'll starting gnawing on her own hair out of boredom. Again."

Violet was already doing so.

Ford chuckled. "Papa's coming, Little One."

"Tad'll be waiting for the history lesson," Tad commented.

As Ford walked up to the chalkboard, Starclops asked her fellow dream demon, "You're not gonna help?"

Tad shrugged. "Ford's the one with twelve PhDs. I just know the multiverse's history."

"Fair enough."

 **R XZM WL RRRRRRRRRGGGGGG!**

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 **Don't worry. Things will get interesting soon enough. Review!**


	3. Baby Steps (Part Two)

**Summary:** **Violet's first steps come at a price as she discovers one of her powers.**

 **Okay, here's where things get interesting. Still pretty cute, though.**

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 **Chapter Two: Baby Steps (Part Two)**

Violet wrote in her glittery pink notebook, as her father explained and demonstrated a basic addition problem on the blackboard hanging on the wall of his office. (A sentence on the bottom of the board read, _MLGV GL HVOU: GVZXS ERLOVG SLD GL FHV XLWRMT._ ) Their lesson was interrupted by a banging on the door.

"I got it," Tad assured, already flying to the door. "You guys keep doing what you're doing." Tad opened the door, and Larman ran in excitedly. Tad closed the door, rolling his eyes. "Come on in. Don't be shy."

Larman stopped in front of a startled Ford and panted, "Dude, dude...gnomes...bunch of… I'm outta shape…"

"Larman, what are you talking about?" Ford asked.

The large gopher arched his back in a stretch and responded, "I know the town's been paying you to research the creatures that show up in this dimension, so I thought you'd like to know about the gnomes."

Ford perked up at the mention of gnomes, but his daughter didn't notice. "What's a gnome?"

Tad answered, "It's a really short guy with a beard and a stupid-"

" _Hat_!" Ford practically yelled. The others looked at him, and his face darkened. He coughed into his six-fingered fist. "They, um, they have pointy hats as well." Suddenly, he grinned and rubbed his hands to together. "And, who knows what secrets those hats hold…"

An awkward silence followed, broken when Violet asked, "Papa, did you get bit by the cuckoo fairy?"

Ford chuckled sheepishly. "N-No, Little One." He patted his daughter's head. "Not since last week. Sorry. I've just always wondered what's under those ha-"

 _Tad and Ford were hiding in the bush. A group of what must have been gnomes scurried by, and Ford threw a chocolate bar to one. It quickly noticed the food and broke away from the others. It sniffed the snack, picked it up, and stood there nibbling on it, facing away from its observers._

" _Okay, we've got him alone," Tad whispered. "Now, what? We just kinda observe him or something?"_

 _Ford shrugged noncommittally. "Sort of. But, I'm going in for a closer look."_

" _You're not gonna try to take off its hat, are you?"_

 _Ford didn't answer. "In order for this to work, we're going to have to be very quiet. Any loud noises may scare him away." The gnome lifted his hat slightly and hid the candy inside. Ford leaped out of the bush, shouting, "Pointy HAAAAATTT!" Before the gnome could react, Ford tackled him, and the two immediately started wresting. "What are you hiding, you bearded little twerp!?"_

 _Tad could only watch in disbelief. "This is not in character."_

 _At last, Ford managed to yank off the gnome's red hat. Various snacks tumbled out of it._

Violet blinked rapidly and shook her head clear. What happened? The forest and the gnome were gone. She was back in her father's office. But, he and Tad were gone. It was just her and Larman. She looked up at him. "Where'd everyone go?"

Larman pursed his lips. "Well, your mom's at the art show, selling her work, Tad and your dad - oh, man, dude, that totally rhymed - they're out gnome-hunting, and Starclops… Oh, gosh, I don't know what she's doing. Dude, is that bad? Shouldn't we, like, know what she's doing at all times or something?"

So...Larman was her babysitter? "What happened to the forest?"

The gopher raised an eyebrow. "Forest? What forest?"

What did he mean, "What forest?" "The forest! The gnome! There was here and then there was a forest and a gnome and Papa beat it up and-and its hat was full of stuff and then there was here again!"

To her dismay, Larman started laughing. "I have literally no idea what you just said." Violet pouted in annoyance. Obviously, her friend wasn't going to listen to her. But, she _knew_ that she saw something! "Anyway, why don't we continue with your lessons, girl-dude?"

Violet sighed. "Okay."

"Sweet! So, where'd you leave off?"

"Depends. How much do you know about the periodic table?"

"...The period-what?" Larman awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh...how about we just play some games or something?" He ruffled her brown curls. "Let me find some games. You stay put, lil' dawg."

Violet slumped in her seat as her sitter left the room. This was stupid. She was telling the truth! There _had_ been a fore-

" _Okay, you listen, Guardian, and you listen good!" Larman snapped into the phone. "I did_ exactly _what you asked. I let Ford stay at my place. He's out of your way. Now, when are you gonna hold up_ your _end of the bargain?" Violet didn't hear the answer, but the scowl on Larman's face and the shaking of his body told her that he didn't like it. "Guardian, you sick son of a bitch!" Wasn't that one of the words Violet's father told her to never say unless she was completely alone? "I did your dirty work! Ford's_ here _! He won't bother you or your stupid plan! Now, I demand_ immediate _payment from you!" There was a pause. "Guardian? Guardian!?" Larman growled and threw the phone across the room._

Violet nearly fell out of her chair. What was that?

Larman walked back into the room, carrying a small, tan, hairy thing. "Okay, so I didn't find any games. But, I did find this hairy misshapen ball. It was locked in a cage for some reason."

"Who's Guardian?"

The question almost made Larman drop the "ball." "Uh, w-what?"

"I saw you on the phone. Who's Guardian?"

Larman laughed nervously, making Violet even more suspicious. "Guardian? Who- I don't know any- You- Your eyes and ears are broken! Wait, do-do you actually have ears?"

"And, why _did_ you let my family stay here?" He was getting nervous. Her father said that if someone gets nervous when you ask simple questions, it usually means they're hiding something. Violet hopped off her chair and walked up to him. He backed away from her, only confirming that he was up to something. "What's going on, Larman? I saw the phone and you did dirty work and you said a bad word and I wanna know who Guard-"

A startled, "Violet!" snapped her out of her trance. Her mother had returned from the art show and was grinning at her, purple eyes filled with pride. "Oh my goodness! Look at you!"

Violet tilted her head, and it dawned on her. She had been walking. Not crawling. Actually _walking_. Paranoia temporarily forgotten, Violet let out a little squeal.

Nadia laughed and picked up her daughter, spinning her around. "You're walking! You're finally walking!"

"Yay!" Violet cheered. The door closed. Larman was gone. That guy was up to something, but what was it? Maybe it wasn't anything. Larman was a really nice man. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her family.

Would he?

The door opened. Larman held up the hairy "ball." "Oh, sorry. I forgot to give you back this ball."

Nadia eyed it warily. "Larman, that's not a ball. That's a creature Ford's been studying."

The creature uncurled itself, revealing a face and pudgy arms and legs. It squealed and jumped on Larman's face. The gopher screamed and tried in vain to pull it off.

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Ford scrambled to jam the screaming creature back in its cage, exhaling in relief when he finally did so. He arched his back and said to his wife, "So, let me get this straight. I _missed_ her first steps!?"

Nadia shrugged. "Well, I missed her first word, so I guess we're even."

Starclops was holding Violet upside-down and squinting at the toddler's feet. "They're just little stumps. They don't even have toes. How do you move around?"

"I don't know," Violet stated, feeling a little nauseous, "but the blood's rushing to my head." Starclops dropped her, and she plopped on her back, even dizzier than before. But, at least she wasn't upside-down anymore. "Thank you." She slowly got to her feet, her head swimming slightly less, and remembered. "Oh yeah. Something weird happened."

Tad was sitting in Ford's desk chair. "Weird things happen all the time, kid. Just today, your dad went insane and killed a gnome."

"I didn't _kill_ it," Ford argued. "He was just unconscious. Probably. But-But, I did find out what gnomes hide in their hats." He chuckled. "They keep snacks up in there. Who knew?"

But, how did he know that _all_ gnomes put food up there? Violet voiced this thought. "But, you only beat up one gnome. Maybe other gnomes-"

"Violet," Tad interrupted, "please don't get him going. And, how did you know he only attacked one? We didn't say how many."

"I saw it. Papa threw chocolate and the gnome ate it and Papa beat him up and the hat came off and snacks fell out! I saw it and I told Larman and he didn't believe m-"

"Wait, wait." Ford pulled his pen and journal out of his trench coat and opened the journal to a new page. "You say you saw it? How, exactly?"

How? How…? That was a good question. Violet shrugged. "I don't know. When you left, I saw you in the forest. Then, I stopped seeing the forest, and I was here again."

Ford jotted everything down, as Nadia asked, "So, you saw that _before_ it happened?"

Violet tilted her head. "I don't know. I think."

"Hm…" Tad folded his hands, thinking. "Nadia, you're the only other mutant here. Do you think Violet might have developed one of her powers?"

Nadia blinked twice, as though she hadn't considered the possibility. "I-I suppose it's possible. Though, from what I hear, non-corporeal powers are pretty rare. But, come to think of it, I was around her age when I developed my healing abilities."

Violet tilted her head. "Um, what's noncop-cop-peel?"

"Non-corporeal," Ford corrected. "It means 'intangible.'"

"Intan-huh?"

Ford clicked his tongue. "Okay. Think of your mother's powers. Other people can _see_ when she's using them, so they're tangible or corporeal." Tongue dangling from her mouth, Violet nodded. "Well, let's assume that you do have an ability. If you're the only one who knows you're using it, then it's _in_ tangible or _non-_ corporeal. Do you understand?"

Violet nodded. "I think so."

"So, you're clairvoyant?" Starclops asked her. "Can you tell me if your dad's butt will ever get less appealing? My guess is that it'll only get _more_ appealing."

Blushing furiously, Ford snapped, "What? Are-Are you _serious_?"

Starclops shrugged. "Hey, it ain't my fault if your kid's clairvoyant."

Violet frowned. "Clair-vee…"

"Clairvoyant. It basically means, you have visions of the future," Tad provided.

Violet grinned. The future! She could see things before they happened! So...that vision with Larman… She didn't know when that would happen. But, Larman was a nice person. He played with her and babysat her after Starclops got banned from doing it. Sometimes even before she was banned. No, Violet wouldn't tell them about that vision. It probably wasn't anything to worry about. He'd probably just been talking to someone he didn't like.

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Larman's mansion was more than big enough for other people to live in. So, he'd figured, why not let others live there? Hey, he was only one gopher. He didn't need much space, and his parents had left him all their fortune in their wills. Plus, he'd gotten a steady job anyway, so it wasn't like he was low on money. The other residents paid rent, so that helped a lot. Unfortunately, letting others stay there meant that it was harder for him to find a secluded area to make this phone call. Violet's suspicions still left him uneasy. For a toddler, she sure seemed to know a lot. Not that he had done a very job of hiding it. He really needed to work on his lying.

Finally, he decided to retreat to his bedroom. It wasn't sound-proof, but no one would bother him. Especially since he'd went into his connected bathroom and locked the door. No one could know about this. Especially not the Pines's and those demons. He genuinely like them, and, if the circumstances were different, he still would have offered to let them stay.

Larman dialed the number and waited, as the other line rang...and rang...and rang… Finally, the man on the other picked up. Larman swallowed thickly. "Uh, hey, Guardian. So, uh, it's been a few, y'know, years. I was wondering when I'd-"

" _Let me stop you there_ ," the man on the other end said. " _I don't appreciate you trying to rush me-_ "

" _Rush_ you?" If Larman had clenched his cellphone any tighter, it surely would have shattered. "It's been _three years_ , dude."

" _I_ also _don't appreciate being interrupted! You'll get what you want, when I'm good and ready to give it._ "

"Okay, you listen, Guardian, and you listen good!" Larman snapped into the phone. "I did exactly what you asked. I let Ford stay at my place. He's out of your way. Now, when are you gonna hold up _your_ end of the bargain?"

 **NZPRMT Z WVZO DRGS TFZIWRZM RH ORPV NZPRMT Z WVZO DRGS YROO. RG ZODZBH VMWH FK YRGRMT BLF RM GSV YFGG.**

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 **More interesting, yes? Oh, I forgot to mention before that all the codes are in atbash. Also, the thing Ford's studying is the thing from "Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained: Candy Monster." Review!**


	4. Almost a Reunion

**This chapter is important! Read it! Read it! Read it!**

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 **Chapter Three: Almost a Reunion**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1992_

Stanley Alexander Pines had never considered himself to be a particularly emotional person. Sure, he had his moments - who didn't? - but overall he was pretty good at keeping his feelings in check. Being homeless for ten years will do that to you.

Then came the day he'd found a woman unconscious not far from Mystery Shack (formerly known as the Murder Hut). Gravity Falls was filled with things that weren't what they appeared, so he was tempted to ignore her and continue his hunt for his brother's journals. But...his conscious wouldn't allow it. He'd passed out countless times a lack of food or dehydration or just plain exhaustion. He didn't know what the woman's story was or even if she was as human as she appeared. Her snow-white hair and pale gray lowlights made him skeptical, but he'd chalked that up to hair dye.

Besides, a lot of the times he'd pass out, he'd woken up injured, kidnapped, or robbed. And, she was a pretty thing. He couldn't let her lay there just for some heartless bastard to find her and do Lord knew what.

So, now she was laying in his bed. Stan had brought in a chair from the kitchen and used it to perch himself beside her, waiting for her to wake up. She had been there for almost an hour, but she was still breathing. That was a good sign, right?

Stan and absentmindedly twirled a lock of pencil-straight lowlight around his finger. Poor woman. He knew what she was going through. If her story was anything like his, she'd probably try to kill him when she woke up.

Eventually, she grunted, and her eyes, so dark that they could only be described as black, fluttered open. To his immense surprise, she didn't try to maim him. Although, she still seemed cautious when she asked, "Who are you?"

"Stanford Pines," he answered. He was so used to having his brother's identity that lying wasn't even a challenge. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The woman's scowl deepened. "Yeah, right. You don't have enough fingers to be Ford. And, your voice is too gravely."

Stan sat in a stunned silence. When he did speak, his voice was barely above a whisper. "You know Ford."

The woman raised an eyebrow and gently lifted herself up. She nearly collapsed again and didn't complain when Stan reached out to hold her up. " _You_ know Ford," she repeated with carefully masked curiosity. She squinted at him long enough to make him _extremely_ uncomfortable. Then, she blinked in shock. "You...You're the twin he mentioned. Stanley, right?"

"He, uh, mentioned me?" Okay, this was getting weird. "How do you even know him?"

"Would you believe me if I said we met in another dimension?"

If Stan's heart could pound any harder, it would have exploded a while ago. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I believe it." He knew he shouldn't have. He knew he should have called the nearest looney bin and told them to come and pick up their nutjob. And, yet...if there was even a _chance_ that it was true, that she did know Ford… "'Round here, you'll find things much, _much_ weirder than freaky dimensional voodoo. I once saw a gnome bathing in squirrels. Really wish I could unsee it."

The woman chuckled and shook off his grasp on her. "Cute. You, not the gnome thing. That's weird, even for my standards."

Stan forced back a smile. She may have known Ford, but that didn't mean she was trustworthy. Who knew what nightmares were on the other side of that portal? "So… Uh, how do you know Ford?"

She eyed him skeptically. It was clear that she didn't trust him either, even if he _was_ Ford's brother. "We...traveled together. For a while."

"Oh," Stan responded when it became clear that she wouldn't say anything more. Then it occurred to him. If they were traveling together, and she was here… "Is-Is Ford with you?"

She looked at the wall across from her, probably thinking that he wouldn't notice the sorrow in her dark eyes. "No. Not anymore."

"He…" Stan swallowed hard, not liking what her words implied. "W-What do you mean?"

She must have realized what "not anymore" sounded like and looked back at him. "Oh, he-he's not dead. I just meant that we don't travel together anymore." Stan let out the breath he'd been holding. Her next sentence stirred his curiosity, and she said so quietly that it seemed like she didn't want him to hear it. "It's better that way."

"What do you mean?" he couldn't help asking.

She flinched, clearly unaware that she'd actually said that last thing. "Uh, don't worry about it." She turned and carefully pulled herself off the bed. "Thanks for taking me in, but I should go."

"Go where?" Stan asked, standing up. A selfish part of him didn't want her to leave. Not when he had so much to ask her about his brother.

The woman glared at him, but something in her posture and hesitation told him that she didn't know the answer to his question. "Are you my mother?"

Stan's softened brown gaze trailed over her body (not in a weird way). Her messy hair, dirty and torn clothing (the pink ribbon tied around her wrist struck him as odd), scabbed over wounds, distrustful eyes. She looked like a female version of his homeless days.

She coughed into her fist and scowled. "Uh, my eyes are up here, pal."

Stan felt a blush crawl up his neck. "S-Sorry, I wasn't staring at your- Look, I'm not some kind of creep, I just- This...This is coming out weird, isn't it?" She rolled her eyes but smiled a little. "Look, it's just… If you're not from this dimension, do you...actually have somewhere to go?"

She crossed her arms, but Stan already knew the answer. "Again, I ask, _are you my mother_?"

Stan sighed and raked a hand through his brown curls. This chick was tough. He could see why Ford liked her. Or, at least traveled with her. "Well, um, assuming you don't gotta be somewhere right now… Could I maybe ask you some stuff about Ford?"

The woman blinked and raised an eyebrow. She eyed him wearily, and he couldn't resist saying, "Uh, my eyes are up here, pal."

And, he finally got a laugh out of her. "Well, I guess I don't have to leave right this second. Sure, I'll answer your questions."

"Great. Also, you don't actually have anywhere to go, do you?" She frowned and opened her mouth, but Stan cut her off. "Don't try to deny it. I was homeless once. I know when someone's like that." That shut her up real quick. "By the way, you never told me your name."

She smiled softly. She was a lot prettier when she wasn't treating him like a potential rapist. "My friends call me Echo."

 **"GSRH GLDM RH Z NZTMVG ULI GSRMTH GSZG ZIV HKVXRZO..." - HGZMULIW KRMVH**

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 **Are you confused? Don't worry. Things will be explained later on. Review!**


	5. Of Snarks and Men

**Hopefully this chapter can clear up a few things. Please read Chapter Three if you haven't already.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Of Snarks and Men**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1992_

The coffee tasted as cheap as it was, but it was still coffee, so neither of them complained. Stan wearily eyed the woman sitting across from him at the kitchen table. Echo sipped from her mug, sat it back on the table and looked up at him. Her expression portrayed nothing.

"Where should I start?" she asked him.

Stan shrugged. "I don't know. Wherever, I guess."

Echo blew out a breath and crossed her arms. A lock of white hair fell over her face, but she ignored it. "I was on the run, when I met Ford. I was half-starved, and he gave me something to eat."

"What were you running from, if you don't mind me asking?"

Echo wagged a finger at him. "Ah-ah-ah. We're not that close."

"Sorry. Continue."

She recrossed her arms. "Anyway, we were together a long time-" Stan's eyebrows shot up. Echo shook her head and laughed. "Not that kind of together. He's not my type. And, even if he was, he wouldn't have went for me, the way I was around him."

"What does that mean?"

Echo licked her lips and avoided his gaze. "It's...hard to explain. If I tell you, you might think I'm insane."

Stan laughed. "Echo, I've been around the block. Heck, I've lived in _this town_ for ten years. 'Lot of insanity goes on 'round here. Whatever you're talking about, I'll understand."

Echo bit the inside of her cheek and relented. "Do you know what a werewolf is?"

"You're a werewolf?" Because, that would be both cool and horrifying.

But, Echo shook her head. "No, but I'm kinda like one. I'm what they call a snark. I'm like a werewolf, but instead of a wolf, I turn into… Well, I wouldn't call a squirrel exactly. It's like a squirrel, but it can erase memories."

Stan stared blankly at her. "There is nothing about that I understand."

Echo sighed and rolled her eyes. "Want me to show you?"

Without waiting for an answer, her body glowed white, and tiny sparkles appeared around her. Stan stared in amazement as her entire being shrank until he couldn't see her anymore. Then, two tiny white paws appeared on the edge of the table, and white squirrel-looking thing with a pink bow around its neck raised itself on top of the table. Stan nearly passed out.

The squirrel - probably Echo? - chuckled at his reaction. "Yeah. This is how Ford knows me." She hopped back on the chair and shifted back into her human form. And, just when Stan thought he'd seen everything. "Need a minute to process?"

"No, no, I'm good," he lied. God, what was in his coffee? This chick couldn't possibly be half-squirrel or however that worked. Then again, as he said earlier, he once witnessed a gnome bathing in (seemingly) ordinary squirrels. After all, this was Gravity-Freaking-Falls. Literally _anything_ was possible. "So, why'd you only let Ford see squirrel-you?"

Echo took a long drink of coffee, probably stalling. When she stopped, she held the mug with both hands and looked down at the cheap brown liquid. "Well, the guy I was running from, he'd only ever seen my human form. As far as I know, he doesn't know I'm a snark. I figured that it would be safer for me to keep up my squirrel form. The plus to that is I can't talk in that form, so no one can ask me any questions and expect answers."

"But, you were talking when you changed just now." Unless there really was something wrong with his coffee.

Echo held up the wrist with the ribbon on it. "Translation bow. I got it a couple years after I met Ford."

"But...if you don't want to talk, why have a translator?"

Echo sighed sadly and sat her mug down. "It's a long story. Let's just say, there was a dire situation, and I was too panicked to remember that I could talk if I just shifted back into a human. Anyway, I'd only planned on hanging with Ford and oth-" She cleared her throat. "I'd only planned on staying for a day or two."

Stan thoughtfully took a gulp of the bitter liquid. Was she about to say "Ford and the _others_?" Or, had he just misunderstood? He decided to let it slide for now.

"Then something came up, and..." Echo shrugged. "I don't know. I just kinda...ended up staying with them. Er, with him."

"Pardon me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like there was more than just you and my brother."

Echo sighed, relenting. "There were three others. We helped each other out."

Stan nodded. If Ford was going to be stuck in some Hell-dimension or whatever, at least he wasn't alone. "So, why did you leave?"

Echo frowned and leaned back in her chair, staring at her lap. "Someone I used to work with found me. She'd found a while back that I'm a snark, so she recognized me. I changed back into a human to defend myself. So, there was fighting...fighting, fighting, fighting… and I ended up getting knocked into a rift, which is basically a tear between two dimensions. And, here I am."

Stan was too stunned to actually say anything for a moment. He was still tempted to call an asylum and turn her in. Then again, this was Gravity Falls. Weirder things have happened. "So...you left by accident."

Echo nodded sadly. "Either way, it's safer for them if I'm not around. Mallory's probably already told Guardian about me-"

"Mallory? Guardian?"

Echo flinched, as though just realizing that she'd said that aloud. She shrugged. "Guess I have to tell now, don't I? Mallory Rogers is the coworker who found me."

Mallory Rogers… Why did that name sound so familiar? "What about Guardian?"

"Well, I don't know what his real name is, but that's what he calls himself. I…" She suddenly looked even more uncomfortable (if such a thing was possible) as she twirled a lock of her long hair around her finger. "I can't tell you everything. Let's just say that I worked for him until I found out what a monster he is."

They were both silent for a while, and Stan took the time to process what she'd told him. Which wasn't easy, considering how downright _insane_ it all sounded. Even if he did live in a town that practically ran on crazy. _So_ much weirder than the squirrel bath. And, he felt like he knew the name Mallory Rogers. Where had he heard that name before?

"What's this Guardian fellow look like?" Stan asked, even though that was _far_ from his only question. Echo looked at him strangely, and he shrugged. "What? If he's looking for you, shouldn't I be on the lookout, too?"

Actually, the request surprised him as much as it did her. But, honestly, after hearing her (completely weird and effed up) story, he felt oddly protective of her. Maybe it was because she was close to his brother, or maybe it was because he knew what it was like to be out on your own, fleeing from one psycho or another, but he wanted to help her.

Echo must have sensed this, because her mouth quirked upward in a small smile. Until she frowned again. "Well, I've never actually seen his whole face. Not many people have. He says he wants to keep himself a mystery until 'the big day.' Still not quite sure what that means, though. I can tell you that he always wears dark shades and a black trench coat with the hood up. And, he's got one of those deep voices that tell you he means business."

Stan nodded, making a mental note to watch anyone like that. Even if the description _was_ annoyingly vague.

"What about you?" she asked after a moment.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "What _about_ me?"

Echo shrugged. "I've told you my story. I think it's only fair that I get hear yours."

He smiled. She was right, he supposed. If they were going to trust each other, he may as well tell her about him. Plus, assuming she stayed here, she would inevitably find out that he'd taken on the real Stanford's identity. "Where should I start?"

She shrugged, a smirk on her lips. "I don't know. Wherever, I guess."

Stan chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Suddenly wistful, he began his own story. "It all started...a lifetime ago."

 **MLGSRMT'H UZRI RM OLEV ZMW DZI.**

* * *

 **Okay, I've got a little request for you guys. Well, two, actually.**

 **1\. I'm considering turning Stan and Echo into a couple, but I want your opinions first. That's why I now have a poll going on my profile. Please vote on whether you want to see them together or _together_.**

 **2\. Like in Season One, I would like to hear your episode ideas. If I like them, I just might post them!**

 **So, until next time, review!**


	6. Vagueness is Coming

**Whoa! Important chapter! Lots of important things are discussed!**

 **Also, there is a reference to the real life Journal 3, but it's not a major spoiler, and it's at the very end anyway.**

 **Also also, I actually made myself a little depressed when I was writing this chapter. Angst!**

 **Bill is intentionally OOC. Of course, at this point you all should know how I'm perceiving Bill's backstory.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Vagueness is Coming**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1981_

 _The plain blue background of the DreamScape put a smile on Stanford's face. It didn't happen every night, but he wished it did. He loved when his Muse visited his dreams. Sometimes Bill Cipher would enlighten him on something in Gravity Falls that he had yet to find. Sometimes Bill would grace him with stories and knowledge from other dimensions. And, sometimes they would simply relax and let their imaginations take them where they would. Literally anything could happen in the DreamScape, and Ford was eager to see what his Muse had in store for him tonight._

 _Slivers of silver light spiraled in front of him until they morphed together, and the familiar triangle appeared in front of him. "Hey, Sixer," Bill greeted. "Long time no see."_

 _It_ had _been a while since Bill's last visit. "I'll say," Ford agreed. "What have you been up to, anyway?"_

 _Bill grunted and pinched his eye. "Let's just say that if I hear the words 'time' and 'baby' together tonight, I am going to throw a horrible tantrum that your human eyes cannot physically see without melting out of their sockets." Ford just stared. "Don't ask. Just-Just don't."_

" _Er...fair enough." Ford cleared his throat. "So, do you wanna do?"_

" _Actually, there's something I need to discuss with you." Ford didn't like the dark tone Bill's voice suddenly took on. "You see, I managed to get a little peek into the future, and I think you'll be interested in what I saw." Bill turned his back and floated away slightly. He'd always had a flair for the dramatic. "In my vision, I saw a man with a power so great that it poses a threat to an entire dimension. Maybe even the multiverse itself."_

" _What?" Ford gasped. "Can-Can one man really possess a power that great?"_

" _I do not know all of the details, Stanford. I can see the future, but the vision isn't always clear. This particular one was a bit fuzzy. All I know is that this man does currently exist somewhere in your dimension." Ford visibly paled. Bill turned around. "Don't get your pants in a knot. He won't do anything that affects you directly for, like, another decade or two."_

" _That doesn't make me feel better." Bill just shrugged. "Who is this man, Bill?"_

" _Unfortunately, that was one of the fuzzy parts. I couldn't see his face, nor did I catch his name. What I did see, however, is the person who will save the multiverse from him."_

 _After a moment of Bill simply staring at him, Ford said, "Well, don't keep me in suspense. Who is it? Who's going to stop him?" Bill didn't respond. In fact, he actually seemed annoyed. And, frankly, Ford was starting to feel the same way. "Well?"_

 _Bill flew uncomfortably close to Ford, and his eye rolled back and turned into a makeshift screen. On it, a man with gray hair and cracked glasses - probably in his sixties, early seventies at most - stood with his hands clenched and shaking. He seemed oblivious of the shimmering golden flames swirling around him, a sick juxtaposition to the solemn blackness of his clothes and the angry red of the blood that may or may not have been his own. Silent tears dripped down his cheeks. Ford was almost overwhelmed by man's feelings as though they were his own, bringing tears to his own eyes. So much pain. So much grief and anger and betrayal and_ pain _. No human being should ever have to feel such sorrow._

 _Ford stepped back in utter shock. The man was older but...there was no mistaking him. "It...It's me…"_

 _Bill's eye returned to normal. "You once asked me why I chose you out of all geniuses in the world. While your intelligence was definitely a factor, the truth is that I sensed that there was something unique about you. I didn't know what it was back then, but I know now exactly what I was sensing. You have a great destiny ahead of you, Stanford Pines. But, fear not. You will not have to face it alone. A day will come in the future when you will meet the beings who will give you the strength to face this destiny." Ford didn't get a chance to relax, because Bill's next statement brought back the lost anxiety. "But, sadly, many lives will be lost along the way."_

 _Ford swallowed hard and clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. "How-How many?"_ Do I know any of them?

 _As if reading his mind, which he might have been, Bill said, "I do not know. But, I do know that some of the beings you love will be lost, as well as those who are strangers to you. I'm sorry I cannot tell you more." Bill turned away again, his color darkening with his mood. "And, I'm even more sorry that I cannot help you through it."_

" _W-What?" Ford's heart stopped. "What do you mean? You-_ You're _not one of those lives...are you?"_

 _Bill didn't answer. Instead he said, "There's something I've been keeping from you, but I can't hide it any longer. A few decades ago, I developed a special elixir, which was meant to cure physical injuries. Maybe even prevent new ones. As a test, I slit my own wrist and drank the elixir. My wrist healed, but I blacked out and woke up with my lab a total mess. I simply passed it off as a bad batch and started testing different chemicals to see if they worked any better."_

" _And, did they?"_

" _No. They didn't. In fact, the more I tested, the more I wanted. Soon, it became an addiction. A_ hard _addiction. It's changing me, Stanford. I can feel my mind growing weaker as the days pass. And, soon, I fear that I may be completely gone."_

" _No… No, there...there has to be a way…"_

" _There isn't. I've tried everything, but nothing works. It's gotten to the point where I can't even enter your dream without a shot of it." Bill finally faced him, and the sadness in his eye made Ford want to look away but at the same time made him unable to. "So far, I seem to be without any erratic behavior in the Dream and MindScapes. But, in my own dimension... It's getting harder to hold on. I've even had to...cut off ties with the woman I love for her own protection. And, I-I think it best if I do the same with you."_

 _What? "Are you seriously telling me there's nothing we can do?"_

" _Ford-"_

" _I'm not going to break our deal, Cipher-"_

" _Atbash."_

 _Ford blinked in confusion. "I-I'm sorry?"_

 _"In my dimension, the men take on the women's last names after courtship. Now that I'm - What do humans call it? - divorced, I'm Bill_ Atbash _. It happened a long time ago. I'm just still used to calling myself Cipher."_

 _Ford's heart snapped in half. "I'm not breaking our deal. 'Until the end of time.' That's what I said."_

" _Have you already forgotten what exposure to the portal did to your friend?" Ford flinched. "I didn't think so. I...I don't remember giving you those blueprints, Ford." Ford couldn't breath. "I don't know if I was under the influence or if it was a blackout caused by my own madness or both. But, it wasn't_ me _giving you those instructions." Bill sighed. "For your own protection, we need to break our deal."_

 _Ford gaped out him. How could he think that? They weren't just a Muse and his apprentice. Bill had it himself countless times. They were friends. Ford wouldn't turn his back on Bill (like he did with Stanley). "William, listen to me. We are_ not _breaking this deal. You've helped me so much. Please, let me help_ you _."_

 _Bill stared at him for so long that Ford feared he would say no. Then the Muse laughed bitterly and shook his head. "Sometimes, I swear you're more stubborn than Stella." Ford didn't need to ask who that was. Bill had mentioned his wife - well, now ex-wife - before, though Ford had never met her (and wouldn't for another year). "I think you're gonna regret this, but okay. But, just in case, I advise you to look into your third journal later. While we were talking, I used your body to give you a warning. Maybe it'll change your mind."_

 _The lump in Ford's throat was almost too big to swallow. Keeping his voice from breaking was a struggle. "It won't."_

" _Stanford, I wanna strike one more deal with you." Ford hated the finality of his words. "You have to promise that, when the time comes, you'll face your destiny and save the multiverse. With or without me."_

 _Ford's hand shook as he held it out. "Of course I will." Even though he had absolutely know no idea what he was suppose to do nor did he plan to do it without his friend by his side._

 _The familiar blue flame light up Bill's hand, which shook Ford's hand, setting the deal in place. "I should go," Bill said, tightening his hold on Ford's, even with the flame gone. "Goodbye, Stanford Pines."_

" _See you soon, William Atbash." Goodbye sounded too final._

* * *

Ford knew he had fallen asleep in his bed, but he woke up at his desk, his third journal closed in front of him and his glasses on his face; that last one was because he had accidentally slept with them on again. He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent his tears from escaping. They fell anyway. He didn't care. His talk with his Muse didn't make him feel elated or eager or even relaxed like it usually did. Instead, he felt hollow, worthless even, like he should have known something was wrong and done something about it.

 _You lied to me! Where does that portal really lead?_

 _Let's just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is gonna learn how to party!_

The night that Fiddleford left, Ford had demanded answers from his "Muse." At first, Bill played it off like some effed up plan. Then, the creatures behind Bill left, and he'd told Ford what had really been going on. He'd mentioned getting mixed up with some interdimensional criminals and promising them freedom. He hadn't gone into detail, but it sounded like he never had any intention to do harm to Ford's dimension. When questioned about Fiddleford, Bill brought up all the horrors that Fiddleford had witnessed in Gravity Falls, saying that getting sent into "The Between" - the space between worlds - was what had made him snap. Ford still felt guilty. He believed that Bill didn't mean for any of this, and he still believed that. He was even starting to understand. Back then, Bill had mentioned giving them something that "seriously screwed with their heads." The elixir, Ford realized. Bill must have tested his elixir on those criminals, who might have even been friends of his.

"I'll save you, Bill," Ford whispered, sniffing and wiping his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his pajamas. "I'll find a way."

 _I used your body to give you a warning._

Did he dare look? He didn't want to look, to see the extent of Bill's madness. And yet...he owed it to Bill. Maybe if he looked, he'd be able to gauge how much time his friend had before...before…

God, he didn't want to think about it.

He forced in a few deep breaths, but they did nothing to calm his racing heart. He opened the journal to the most recent page. What he found churned his stomach and made his breathing shallow with horror.

The two pages before him were covered almost entirely with heavy black scribbles. Hasty and jagged sketches of eyes littered the pages, and in red ink were strange symbols and three sentences: "My Muse was a Monster" "I was a Puppet" "F was Right"

Ford's stomach barely held out until he reached the toilet bowl.

 **ZOO GSV KILNRHVH R NZWV, QFHG GL OVG BLF WLDM. BLF YVORVEVW RM NV, YFG R'N YILPVM.**

* * *

 **Here's a hint for the code: it's lyrics to the Evanescence ( _love_ that band) song, _Lost in Paradise_. There are actually a lot of their songs that fit this chapter.**

 **One more thing: I forgot to mention earlier that your episode ideas can be for Ford's story (A-plot) or for Stan's story (B-plot).**

 **Review!**


	7. Vagueness is Coming Redux

**A brief message to fans of _Phineas and Ferb_ : You will love this chapter. Also, Isabella looks like her water sprite persona from "Excaliferb."**

 **I recommend reading the previous chapter first.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Vagueness is Coming Redux (Another Story)**

 _Mystic Topaz_

Beneath this, a sketch of a gemstone with light shining off it.

 _Upon first glance, this rare gemstone has the appearance of a simple white rock. But, look at it under a light source, and it will shine with every color of the rainbow. And, some colors that only bees and art students can see. Oddly, looking directly at it doesn't hurt your eyes._

 _It is rumored to maintain magical properties that improve the user's communication and self-expression skills._

This line was scratched out: _Wish Stanley and I could have had this. I wonder how he's doing._

 _I decided to collect some samples for two main reasons:_

 _1\. Closer study._

 _2\. Something far too personal (and, admittedly, sappy and cliche) to risk writing it down, only for Starclops to read it and taunt me for the rest of my existence._

This part was written by Starclops: _Hey, I read your thoughts! You don't give me enough credit, man. I think it's really sweet, what your second reason is. For the record though, if you were doing this for anyone else, I_ _would_ _taunt you for the rest of your existence. Oh, I'll still taunt you. Just not that much. Love, Starclops_

* * *

Ford walked cautiously toward the deepest part of the forest, where he knew the mystic topaz was waiting. Normally, he would have brought Tad with him, but this was something he wanted to do alone. His head buzzed with excitement when he finally arrived at his destination. This one part of the woods, where the gems seemed to be growing out of the trunks of the trees. One would think the sunlight reflecting off the white gems would be blinding, but strangely it wasn't. The variety of colors was actually quite beautiful.

But, he would admire them later. Right now, all he needed was a few samples. He reached up to grab one from off the trunk and pulled...pulled. He grunted in frustration then reached into his trench coat for the hammer he'd brought.

"Whatcha doin'?"

The high voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up and jumped back in surprise. He recognized the creature as a pixie. She was no bigger than his hand and resembled a human with long black hair and dark blue eyes. She wore a _very_ short light purple dress with matching flats. Her wings were translucent and shaped like a butterfly's. Also, she was not there the last time he'd come here.

"Um...hello," Ford greeted awkwardly.

The pixie curtsied. "My name is Isabella. It is such an honor to finally meet you in person, Stanford."

Ford gasped. "You-You know my name?"

Isabella nodded. "Oh, yes. We all do." With that, she flew a little away and motioned for him to follow. "Come, come. We have much to discuss."

Ford paused, considering. He'd met many pixies back in Gravity Falls - they'd been one of the first paranormal creatures he'd encountered - and most of them were rather benign. And, the ones who weren't were all bark and no bite. Then again, he had no way of knowing if the pixies in this dimension differed from the ones in Gravity Falls. On the other hand, he did want to know how this pixie, and apparently other pixies, knew him.

The pixie turned around, still smiling, still friendly. "Are you coming?"

"Uh, actually, Isabella, I'm just here for some of the topaz-"

"Oh." She frowned. "I'm sorry, Stanford, but the mystic topaz is sacred to pixies. We don't let just anyone take it."

Ford frowned back. "I-I only need a little. No one will even know it's gone."

Isabella seemed to ponder this then smiled. "Well, a non-pixie _can_ have some, if a pixie gives them permission. I'll grant you permission, Stanford. But, only if you come and let me show you something that I think you'll be interested in."

Sure, he didn't totally trust this pixie, and he didn't _have_ to have the topaz...but she had definitely peaked his curiosity. He nodded. "Very well. What is you have to show me?"

"Come along."

* * *

They had been walking - or in her case, flying - silently for a while. Ford couldn't help wondering if he'd made a mistake and should turn back. But, that wasn't really an option. He had absolutely no idea where he was, so his only real option was following this pixie. Great.

To make matters worse, he kept noticing other pixies pop up here and there. At first, it was just one or two. Then, there were tiny pairs of eyes and softs flaps of wings everywhere. Word of a human in their territory must have traveled fast. Fortunately, they didn't seem hostile. Just curious. And, maybe a little intimidated. And, somehow they sounded familiar with him, as if he had come here many times before. He could tell by the little whisperings he heard from some of them. Well, some of the whisperings.

"Is that the one?"

"He's bigger than I imagined."

"Sv rh gsv lmv gszg droo hzev fh zoo!"

"What language is that?"

"It's atbash."

"Hey, where's Perry?"

In front of him, Isabella giggled. "Don't mind them. They're just excited to finally meet you."

"So, how _do_ you pixies know me, anyway?" Ford asked.

Isabella stopped flying and simply hovered in front of a huge wall of trees that seemed to grow so close together that they touched, even seemed to be conjoined together, like an impenetrable barrier. Isabella turned to face him. "You will find out soon enough, Stanford. Just give me a moment to speak with the Guardi- I mean, the _Watchers_ of the Sacred Text. We used to call them Guardians until...uh, recent discoveries."

Before Ford could ask what she meant by that, she flew a little higher, up to two male pixies who were sitting on a branch and talking. One of them had an oddly triangular head and bright red hair, and the other had a long face with a prominent - though not as prominent as his companion's - nose and green hair.

"Hi, Phineas," Isabella greeted. It seemed strange to Ford that she only greeted one of them. Maybe she was only familiar with one.

"Hey, Isabella," the triangular one - Phineas - said back. The green-haired one simply waved. Maybe Isabella _did_ only know Phineas.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Ferb and I were just wondering what we should do today. There's a world of possibilities, you know."

The green-haired one - Ferb - nodded in agreement. Not much of a talker, perhaps? Or, maybe he was mute?

"Well, boys," Isabella looked down at their visitor, "I think _he_ might give you an idea."

The male pixies - What had she called them? Watchers, right? - gazed down at him in awe. The staring went on for so long that, uncomfortable under the three tiny blue gazes, Ford smiled and awkwardly waved at them.

Phineas grinned and looked over at his male companion. "Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today." All three pixies flew down to Ford, the redhead with a huge grin on his face. "At long last, we meet!"

"Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines, PhD," Ferb said with a thick British accent. "It is an honor to meet you."

"How do all know who I am?" Ford asked calmly, even though not knowing was driving him mad. "What's going on?"

Phineas laughed. "You really don't know about the Sacred Text, do you? Someone should really fix that." He gestured to Ferb. "Luckily, my brother and I are just the ten-year-olds to do it."

 _Ten_ -year-olds? "Aren't you two a bit young to be in charge of something with 'sacred' in the title?"

It was Ferb who responded. "Actually, in pixie-years, we're in our mid-thirties."

"Hm." Ford shrugged. "Fair enough. So, what exactly is all this about?"

The two males turned to the wooden wall. "You're about to find out," Phineas informed. A faint tweeting and even fainter humming sounded against Ford's ear, and he flinched as a what appeared to be a teal and orange hummingbird hovered beside him. Phineas turned around and smiled. "Oh, there you are, Perry. That's Perry. He's my and Ferb's pet hummingbird. He doesn't do much, but he's a really great friend." Ford could have sworn Perry smiled at that. Phineas returned his attention to the wall. "Now, Stanford Pines, prepare yourself for what you are about to see!"

The Watchers raised their arms to the wall, and they glowed with a soft blue light as they chanted something Ford didn't understand.

" _Noom fo srewop htiw_

 _Nus fo srewop dna_

 _Yaw eht thgil i_

 _Eno nesohc eht rof_

 _NOLEMRETAW YM!_ "

The lines on the wall's bark morphed before Ford's eyes, turning into symbols that he didn't recognize.

Phineas translated them. "According to the Sacred Text, there will come a day in the future when a dark power will rise and threaten the entire multiverse, as we know it. But, there is a man in this world who will rise against him. And, that's you, Stanford Pines."

 _You have a great destiny ahead of you, Stanford Pines._ Ford was reminded of the night Bill had informed of his destiny. To defeat an unknown power and save the multiverse. Stanford couldn't believe he'd forgotten it. "But, how do you know it's me?" he asked.

"Instincts," Isabella answered. "Our magic allows us to know when a Protector or someone incredibly important is near, and you just happen to be both. It's because of our magic that we know your name, as well."

Ford nodded, storing that information for later. "So, can you tell me anything else about this dark power?"

Phineas looked over the Text. "Not much. But, I can tell you that someone you know is deceiving you. A Destroyer is lurking where you least expect and will strike where it hurts you most. And, no, I don't think the Text is referring your...lower regions."

"Just to be clear," Isabella whispered solemnly, "all this is coming from the most cheerful guy I know."

Ford swallowed hard, chills trickling down his spine. His mind wandered to warnings he'd received from Bill, the vision Bill had shown him. Even now, he could feel his future-self's agony. What horror awaited him?

Phineas and Ferb turned around. Their bodies were no longer glowing, and the markings on the bark returned to normal. "I wish we could tell you more, Ford," Phineas said, frowning. "But, your destiny is your own, and it is not our place to say anything more."

"Well, thank you for telling me as much as you did," Ford said, forcing the negative memories to the back of his mind.

"Now then," Isabella said, "I believe I have a promise to deliver on." She held out her arms to him, and he glowed white as she chanted,

" _Tnaw uoy tnaw ekat_

 _Esaelp uoy tahw evael_

 _Cigam sa gnol sa_

 _Seert eht no sniamer_ "

His body returned to normal, and Isabella lowered her arms. "There. You now have permission to take some of the Mystic Topaz."

Ford forced a smile, trying to hide how unsettled by all of this he really was. "Thank you, Isabella. I promise you, I only need a small sample."

* * *

 _Pixies_

 _These tiny humanoid creatures reside deep within the Hirsch Forest, and I was fortunate enough to befriend a few, who were more than happy to tell me a few things about their species._

Drawings of Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella, their names underneath their respective sketches.

 _Their wings beat at an average of 300 times per minute. Ferb judo-flipped me when I tried to get a closer look at his wings. Incredible strength! Phineas and Isabella told me Ferb's the only pixie they knew of that could do that without magic! Note to self: Never get on Ferb's bad side._

 _Apparently, there is at least one "spontaneous musical number" each day in a pixie colony. This would explain why some of them randomly started singing about one of them having squirrels in her pants. Don't ask._

Sketch of Perry the Hummingbird wearing a fedora and looking determined. An arrow pointed to the fedora, labeling it "ODD."

 _Some of them keep small forest creatures as pets. Isabella has a MALE mouse named Pinky (poor little guy). Phineas and Ferb have a pet hummingbird named Perry. Could have sworn I saw him don a fedora and fly off. May need to investigate._

 **XFIHV BLF, KVIIB GSV SFNNRMTYRIW!**

* * *

 **I have a job now, so there probably won't be as many updates. But, don't worry. I will definitely be continuing this. Just not as quickly.**

 **Keep voting on my poll, and review!**


	8. Better Late Than Never

**Fordia! So much Fordia! Except for the part at the beginning and the part at the end. Other than that, it's my attempt at something romantic. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Better Late Than Never**

 _After what those pixies told me today, I am left with even more questions about…_

 _My Destiny_

 _I finally took the time to ponder everything they and Bill have told me, and I've made some educated guesses as to what evil I am destined to face:_

 _1\. This mystery villain is someone am already acquainted with. That or someone I know is working with this person. Either way, I think this because Phineas mentioned that someone I know is deceiving me. But, I have no way of knowing who it is!_

 _2\. Whatever I am supposed to do will come at a heavy cost. I remember when Bill showed me a vision of my future self - before or after I face the villain, I'm not sure. All I know is that the sheer AGONY I felt was...so real, so powerful. Needless to say, I'm in no hurry to find out what THAT was all about._

 _3\. Phineas mentioned a "Destroyer." Not sure what that means, but I think it has something to do with my mystery enemy._

 _4\. Whoever my foe is, he will be the most powerful being I've ever faced. Probably not including Bill?_

 _Who is deceiving me? Is my mystery enemy someone I care about, someone I already hate, someone I have yet to even meet? Does my destiny have something to do with my being a Protector? (Still don't know much about that one.) So many questions, and absolutely ZERO answers! I must get to the bottom of this immediately…_

 _...after I take care of that thing I wanted to do with the mystic topaz. Hope Nadia likes it!_

* * *

Ford was nervous. He didn't know why. It wasn't like Nadia was going to say no. He told himself it was because of their difference in customs. Nadia's home-dimension didn't have any real courtship rituals. People there just kind of got together. Yes, that was probably why he was nervous. He didn't want scare or confuse her with something that she would consider bizarre or unnecessary. He patted the bulge in his pants pocket. No, she wouldn't feel that way. Nadia Blackburne was a sentimental person. At the very least, she would find it cute, right? (But, Ford didn't want it to be merely _cute_.) Standing in the middle of their shared bedroom, Ford tugged anxiously at the ends of his sweater's sleeves. God, did he ever feel naked without his trench coat. He had taken it off, because it didn't seem proper to wear it for what he was going to do. He wished he had something a little dressier to wear. Nadia wouldn't care, but he still felt under-dressed in only a red sweater and black pants.

When Nadia finally walked in (even though she was wearing jeans and a Hollistaeropostale brand T-shirt, he still felt under-dressed), the first she said was laced with both suspicion and amusement. "Okay, can you please explain to me _why_ Starclops demanded that I wear something 'dangerously sexy' under my clothes before I come in here?"

 _Don't think too hard about it. Don't think too hard about it,_ Ford mentally repeated like a mantra. He cleared his throat. He could do this. She wouldn't say no, would she? No, she wouldn't. Of course, she wouldn't. He wouldn't force her to go through an entire marriage ceremony; God knew those things had never appealed to him anyway. He just wanted to give her the ring. He drew in a calming breath. "Nadia, there's...something I want to do. Something I've been wanting to do, but never had the, uh, materials to do it."

Nadia tilted her head. "Okay… What do you wanna do?"

Ford raked a hand through his hair then silently chided himself for messing up his hair at a time like this. "It's, um… Well, your kind don't have courtship rituals, so I never brought it up before, but there's this thing that humans do, and… I-I kinda wanna do it."

"Oh." Nadia frowned sadly. "I'm sorry, Ford. I would have done it, if I'd known."

"No, no, don't feel bad. I'm the one who never said anything about. A total mistake on my part."

She walked up to him and smiled shyly. "If it's something your kind do, then we should do it. It's only right."

"Okay." Moment of truth. Pretending his hands weren't shaking, Ford dropped to one knee. Nadia did the same, and he laughed. "Actually, you don't have to-"

"Oh. Oh, sorry." She stood back up. "What do I do?"

That smile, those eyes… After all these years, he still never tired of her beauty, never tired of _her_. "Well, uh, I had this little speech planned about how much I love you." Nadia looked away shyly, grinning wide, blushing hard. The blush that spread over Ford's face, however, was out of pure embarrassment. "But honestly, I...I sort of forgot what I was going to say… Sorry about that. It's just… Well, here I am with the single most amazing person in the multiverse, and she actually reciprocates those feelings to me. Meanwhile, I'm not exactly a girl magnet. I'm not amazingly handsome. I'm not super cool. I'm just a nerd with too many fingers for a human being. But, you..." He looked up at her and was both surprised and alarmed to see her lavender eyes shining with unshed tears and a hand over her mouth. At first, he thought that his earlier fears were true and he was overwhelming her.

Then, she lowered her hand, revealing a tender smile. Her voice was thick with emotion. "Go on."

Ford's heart pounded in his chest as he smiled up at her. "You're just…incredible. You're so kind, smart, brave… Hell, I don't know what I did to make someone like you love me, but I'm glad I did it." He stood up and took her callused hands in his. "I adore you, Nadia. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I want you by my side through it all."

 _Some of the beings you love will be lost._

Good God, of all the times for Bill's warning to echo through his mind… Ford squeezed her hands, smiling through the fear. She was here with him now, and he'd do everything in his power to keep it that way.

Nadia didn't seem to notice his anxiety. "Sounds like you remembered your speech after all."

Ford breathed a laugh. "Actually, I think this is _better_ than my prepared speech." It was true. In his first one, he'd tried to make every word sound romantic, only for it to turn out ridiculously cheesy. Was it the mystic topaz's power making his words sound right? Perhaps it didn't matter. "I know this is kind of redundant at this point, but tradition states that I ask anyway." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring - a thin silver band with a small dot of the mystic topaz. It wasn't much, but it was the best he do (also, that jeweler's prices put tourist traps to shame). Nadia made a small intake of breath as Ford gently slid it on to her slender finger. "Will you marry me, Nadia?"

Nadia sniffed and looked up at him through watery eyes. "I don't know what that means."

"Uh, right." It was easy to forget that they were literally from two different worlds. "Basically, I'm asking if you'll...be with me. For better or worse, as long as we both shall live. That sort of thing."

"Oh." She nodded and wiped her eyes. "Then, yes. I will."

Ford exhaled in relief. "You have no idea how scared I was that you would say no."

Nadia laughed in disbelief. "Really? You really thought I'd say no?"

"Well, our customs are different, and-"

Nadia laughed again. "You're silly." Ford blushed at the comment. Nadia gazed lovingly at her ring. "I wished you'd have told me about this tradition before. What should I do with the ring?"

"Keep it," Ford told her.

"I will," Nadia promised, her heart swelling at the look in his blue eyes. "Is there anything else we have to do?"

He held her cheek in his hand. He would never forget the joy in her eyes. "All you have to do now is kiss me."

She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled one arm around her back, and the other cradled her head as they kissed. Fire burned through Stanford's entire being, and he tentatively lowered his hand and traced the lining of the bra underneath her shirt.

Her breath tickled his neck as she whispered. "I'm still on the pill."

That one sentence was all it took to drive Ford wild.

* * *

The sad part was that Tad was _expecting_ to find Starclops giggling quietly outside of Ford and Nadia's bedroom door.

Starclops's orange body was the brightest he'd seen it in a long time. "I made Nadia wear a black bra with hot pink lace and matching panties." She giggled again. "I bet Ford's enjoying himself in there."

Tad facepalmed. "You are…" He threw his hands up. "For the love of the Axolotl, I don't even know what to call you."

"Hey, guys!" Violet called scurrying up to them. "Are Mom and Papa in there? I'm gonna be starting school soon and I wanna ask them about school because I don't know what to expect, and I-"

Tad smacked her fingerless hand away from the doorknob. "You don't wanna go in there."

"Why not?" Violet asked, her large purple eyes curious. "What are they doing in there?"

Starclops suddenly looked _way_ too happy. "Oh, I'll tell you what they're doing-"

"Their taxes," Tad interrupted. "They're doing their taxes."

"Oh," Violet said. "How long is that gonna take?"

"...Probably all night."

Violet frowned. "Am I gonna have to do that when I'm big?"

Starclops let out a little squeal, and Tad wagged his finger at her. "No! No, Starclops! Don't you dare!" She just started laughing. "No! Do _not_ tell her!"

Fortunately, the small child had enough sense to cover the sides of her head - where her ears would have been if she had them - and run away, saying, "I don't wanna know. I _don't_ want to know."

 **RG'H VZHB GL OVZEV HLNVLMV YVSRMW. TVGGRMT GSZG KVIHLM YZXP RH NFXS, NFXS SZIWVI.**

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 **Pray to the Axolotl that Starclops never has kids. Review!**


	9. Forest Fire

**Read if you dare. Important plot stuff ahead!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Forest Fire**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1997_

Echo didn't know why Stan was allowing her to live in his house. (Well, technically it was _Ford's_ house, but still.) Maybe it was because she was his only connection to his brother, or maybe it was because she honestly didn't have anywhere else to go. Either way, she wasn't complaining. Gravity Falls was a fairly friendly town - aside from that damn Northwest family - and Stan was a surprisingly nice guy when you chipped at the gruff exterior.

But, he apparently wasn't very creative. Seriously, nearly every attraction in his little tourist trap was some taxidermy part glued to another taxidermy part. And, people _liked it_. The IQs of the inhabitants of this dimension were abundantly clear.

If Stan was going to stay in business, and keep Ford's house and the still-in-pieces portal underneath, he was going to need something _real_. So, she decidedly to go out into the forest and find something. Preferably something small that probably wouldn't try to eat her.

The wind was stronger than usual, whipping at her high ponytail and spraying leaves into her face. Echo didn't bring anything with her, didn't need to. She just had to find something, knock it out, and drag it back to the shack. And, if she ran into trouble, she could always scream and make her attacker forget that it was attacking her.

Except that it didn't work on _that_ attacker. Shit, shit, _shit_.

A cruel, triumphant grin spread over her opponent's face. Dark brown hair blew to the side, and navy-colored eyes sparked with hatred, as the woman stood with crossed arms. "Been a while," she said simply.

Echo casually put her hands in the pockets of her jean shorts, even though rage and anxiety were currently flowing in place of her blood. "Hello, Mallory. What brings you here?"

Mallory shrugged and gazed boredly up at a nearby woodpecker. "Just passing through. Didn't expect to see you alive. I may have used a decoy-snark to fool your little friends into thinking you'd died," Echo's pulse paused, "but I guess I could always take you out for real."

"You mean make your pokemon do your dirty work." Mallory finally looked at her. Echo clicked her tongue. "Well, it's true. You turn innocent pokemon into monsters." If looks could kill, Echo would have been a lifeless heap on the grass. "What are you really doing here, Mallory? I know you're not just here for a little R and R."

Mallory dared a step forward. "Sometimes I like to see how my home-dimension's doing. That a problem?"

Actually, Echo hadn't even known this was her home dimension. But, that didn't mean she believed Mallory. "Did Guardian send you out here, or something? Did he decide that he doesn't want anyone more insane than him under his command?"

Mallory snarled. "How _dare you_. Guardian is a fucking _saint_. Don't you get it? He's going to save us! So, stop resisting, Juliette."

Echo bristled. "That's not my name anymore."

Mallory just rolled her eyes. "Of course. Because _Echo_ sounds so much better."

"And, if anyone doesn't get it, it's you, Mal. You and the rest of Guardian's little clique. If that guy's a saint, then it must be snowing in Hell."

Mallory was shaking in fury. "Why don't you go there and find out?"

* * *

Stan didn't know why, but those damn mosquitoes had been all over him today. But, they weren't regular mosquitos. Because, really, what was ever normal in Gravity Falls? Every time someone in the town was attacked by those little pests, the dozens of bites were arranged to write some kind of message. The townsfolk called the little bugs "soothsquitoes." Local legend stated that the messages were warnings, but Stan couldn't tell if they were in another language or just spelled wrong. His latest "message" was no different.

What the hell did "TRECHO'S IN OUBLE" even mean?

Stan leaned back on the couch on the patio and sipped his Pitt Cola, careful not to swallow the pit inside (again). He was so used to this town's weirdness that he didn't even give two damns about whatever it was the soothsquitoes were trying to tell him.

He glanced down at his watch and frowned deeper. Echo had been gone a good while. She could take care of herself just fine, but the woods were a dangerous place. And anyway, it wasn't like having a "real" attraction was necessary, but Echo seemed eager to go exploring, so he let her. But, maybe he shouldn't have. He'd never admit aloud, but he'd grown to care for her. Perhaps, he would give her a few more minutes and then go after her. But, what if she came back, only to find that he'd left to go find her?

Just then, he smelled smoke coming from the forest, like someone was having a cook-out. But, starting a fire, for cooking or otherwise, in such a dense forest? Even the inhabitants of Gravity Falls weren't that stupid. He cautiously followed the smell and nearly dropped his soda can at what he found. Golden, oddly sparkly flames lapped up the trees from deeper into the woods and were spreading fast. Stan's first instinct was _not_ to find a way to shield the shack from them.

No, his first instinct was to look down at his soothsquito bites.

TRECHO'S IN OUBLE

Echo's in trouble.

Stan dropped his soda can and sprinted into the fire.

* * *

The heat, the smell, the beauty of the glittering flares as they whirled through the forest. Echo had forgotten just how _good_ it all felt. She and Mallory flung flare after flare at each other, though they had yet to hit the one another. Echo sent a wave of gold after her target. Mallory's body dodged, but the flame grazed her hair. Slowly, as though wanting to savor it, the flame creeped up Mallory's dark curls, and she screamed in pain and horror. The stench of burnt hair was trumped by the smell of fresh charcoal. Fire blazed a wall between them, until Mallory was hidden from view.

Echo couldn't help the wild laugh that escaped her throat. The fire, the ashes, the scent, feel, sound, look, taste of it all… Why had she ever stopped using that power? It felt so _good_ , so _right_. More. She needed _more_ of it.

"Echo!"

She thought she heard someone calling her name, but she laughing to hard to really notice or care. She heat - glorious _heat_ \- spread through her body as she unleashed another wave. More. More, more, _more_!

"Echo!"

She twirled around in a giddy high.

"Echo!"

That time, she saw the figure bolting toward her, barely avoiding her beautiful flames. But, just before she'd spotted him, she'd unleashed another wave. A wave that slammed into him. The man collapsed, and his agonized scream jolted Echo back to reality as flames engulfed him.

A name. There was a name for him, right?

Stan.

Stanley.

Stanley Pines.

Oh God, _no_!

* * *

Stanley woke up lying in his bed. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils, but as far as he could tell the house wasn't on fire, so he ignored it. How did he get here?

Then, he remembered. The fire, the pain, Echo… Echo! Where was she?

A sound entered his eardrums. Was that a sob? Grunting from the effort - holy Moses, was he ever _sore_ \- Stan turned his head, and he was torn between relief and fear at what he found.

Echo was sitting in a chair by his bedside. She was safe. Covered in soot and smelling of charcoal, but safe. But, what alarmed him was that she had her head down, crying into her hands. Stan tried to say her name, but he ended up in a coughing fit instead. Echo looked at him anyway and inhaled sharply. Her normally snow-white was so filthy that you couldn't tell the difference between her white hair and its gray streaks (which Stan still didn't believe were natural, but what did he know about hair?). Her tears had broken through the ash on her cheeks, revealing the fair skin underneath. Against all odds, her eyes actually seemed even darker than usual.

Stan's heart broke. The strongest woman he knew looked completely broken.

Though his body was against it, Stan forced it to sit upright and turn to face her. "What-" Another bout of coughing wracked his body. "What the fuck happened?"

Instead of answering him, Echo wailed into her hands even harder than before, making Stan silently panic. Whatever happened in those woods, it must have been god-awful to break her down like this. Stan reached over and pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly, protectively around her. Whatever she was trying to say to him was drowned out by her own sobs, but he could pick out things like, "I'm sorry" and "my fault" and "you're alive." But, he knew better than to force her to tell him what was going on; she was obviously in no condition to speak coherently. So, he just held her and let cry, even though his own heart was aching at the sight of her in such a state.

 **YVDZIY TZIWVM ZMW GSV HRNNVI UZNVO.**

* * *

 **I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but do you remember when I told you about PFDroids5198's fic (the one that has my OCs)? The name of it was changed to "After the Fall." Once you review my fic, go check that one out!**


	10. Analysis

**This is just a little filler I put together. The next chapter will have important things in it! Probably...**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Analysis**

 _It occurs to me that the journal entries about my friends and family (see Journal 4) are rather outdated. So, I've decided to write out a new one about them._

 _Tad Strange: Don't let the name fool you. This square dream demon is hands-down the most sane of my companions. He often helps me research the beings of this dimension, and I find it refreshing to share my discoveries with a friend. Loyal, compassionate, and intelligent, I honestly can't trust him more! Although, I'm still baffled by his pyrophobia. I asked him about it once. He stammered a bit, then Starclops whacked me in the head with her chew toy. I don't know why she had a chew toy, and frankly, I don't want to._

 _Starclops: As you may have guessed from that particular incident, she is strange. VERY strange. (Describes herself as "crazy awesome.") She has little to no censor, constantly compliments and/or TOUCHES my hindquarters (80% certain she tried to RAPE me when I tried to make her stop touching me), and has a fascination with being upside down. But, after a while, I learned that, while she is indeed an oddball by nature, there is another side to her. A side that shows the gentle, caring person she can be. I was actually rather touched when she first showed me this side of her. Something tells me, she doesn't let a lot of people see her like that._

 _Nadia Blackburne: My wife. Still can't believe a girl like her loves me. Me! Of all the men in the multiverse! Take that, everyone who called me a freak! Uh, anyway, Nadia is the nicest person I know, her artistic skills are fantastic, and her scars (while terrible in the sense that she even has them) are weirdly sexy. They are visual proof that she's a fighter. She's lived through Hell (literally?), and she still manages to pull through. A bit sensitive, but she says that all artists are a little like that. She also has this thing where she gets all poetic and deep when she's concentrating on her art. Again, weirdly sexy. I just don't understand why beings tend to fear mutants like her. I get that there was the Mutant War a while back, but come on, people. Not all mutants are terrible._

 _Violet Pines: Speaking of mutants that aren't terrible, let's discuss my daughter. The apple of my eye, she's extremely bright for her age, and her social skills are surprisingly adept for someone with my DNA. Probably gets that from her mother. I've noticed something interesting about her Future Sight (at least, that's what I started calling it): it always occurs after she makes physical contact with someone or something. What she touches always has relevance to what she sees, one way or another. One thing that still stumps me though? She lacks fingers, toes, a nose, and ears, yet she gets around as though she has all of those things. Don't ask me how she works her camera one-handed._

 _When I first went through the portal, I didn't know where to turn or who to trust. But, now I can safely say that I trust these four with my very life. Except maybe Starclops. I can tolerate the butt-grabbing, but if she ever rapes me, I'm reporting her the authorities!_

* * *

 **So, yeah, nothing you didn't already know. Just a little journal entry. Review, anyway!**


	11. Am I Right, or Am I Write?

**This may seem like a filler, but there are quite a few important hints in here, if you squint. Also, Starclops has no censor whatsoever and should stay away Violet until the latter's in her teens. You'll understand once you read this.**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Am I Right, or Am I Write?**

 _Dear Papa's Journal,_

 _Hello, there! My name is Violet. I don't understand why my name has that O in it. You don't pronounce it, but Papa says that's how it's spelled. It's a name from his home-dimension, so he would kno (or, is it no?)._

 _Anyway, today was my first day of school, and what a day it was! Papa asked me to write about this dimension's school for him. I'll do my best, Papa!_

 _So, school! It's kind of interesting. Mom was really, really nervous about me going. Something about mutants like us getting bullied or something? But, it turns out she had nothing to worry about. Papa seemed pretty upset about me getting older (I think he was close to crying), but… Well, yeah, I'm older. Sorry, Papa!_

 _Whoopsy! I'm supposed to be writing about school! I even ramble when I right! Or, is it write? I always get those mixed up._

 _Oh, yeah! School! There were good things, and there were bad things. I'll start with the good things._

 _I got to meet a bunch of different species! My favorite is my new friend, Cleo! She's a banshee. I don't know if Papa wrote about those yet, so I'll tell you some stuff Cleo told me about them. Banshees are only born girls. You no (kno?), cause girls are awesome! No offense, Tad and Papa. Anyway, banshees can sense when someone nearby - I think it's within five miles of them or something - is gonna die. When someone is gonna die, the banshee has a vision of the death and starts screaming really loud. Cleo hasn't done that yet, but she said her mom did it once, and apparently it was scary. My own future visions sometimes scare me, but I certainly don't envy poor Cleo!_

 _The school building itself was nice. It seemed clean and happy-looking. Lots of decorations on my teacher's walls! Mine and Cleo's teacher is named Mr. Raptorem. He's super nice! He didn't say what he is, but maybe if I write (right?) down what he looks like, Papa will be able to tell me! He looks like a human, but he has two black horns his head and black wings that are always folded behind him. How does he sleep? Are his wings soft to lay on? Does he sleep on his side? Maybe, he's like a bat and sleeps hanging upside-down. Guess that doesn't matter, because he seemed to really like me! Which is good because I really like him!_

 _But, I think it's time to talk about the bad thing about school. I didn't learn anything about anything! The other kids were super confused about the stuff Mr. Raptorem was teaching, but I understood everything. Adding and subtracting? Easy. Reading? Been there. Writing (righting?) our NAMES? Come on! Sure, I get my homophones mixed up, but I'm righting (writing?) a whole flipping journal entry here! Why was I the only one who knew (new?) anything? Didn't the other kids' parents teach them stuff like my parents and Tad did? After class, I asked Mr. Raptorem when we would learn stuff like multiplication and demonology and Shakespeare (cause Papa and I really don't understand Shakespeare). He didn't even know what I was talking about! WTF? Starclops told me that means, "What the fuck?" Not sure what fuck is though. After you read this, Papa, can you please tell me what fuck means?_

* * *

Ford reread that...last part in horror, right before picking up his pen and scratching out everything related to it. Starclops truly didn't have a censor. Even when it came to five-year-olds. _God bless her children if she ever has them._ He searched for his daughter and found her in her room, taking pictures of anything and everything with the camera Nadia had given her for her fifth birthday.

Violet lowered her camera when she spotted. "Hi, Papa! Did you read what I wrote in your journal?"

Boy, did he. "Uh, most of it. I...I'm hear to tell about...a word you were confused by."

Violet raised an eyebrow, then her face it up. "Oh! Fuck!"

Ford flinched. "Yes. That word. Uh, sit down, honey." Violet sat her camera on her nightstand and crawled up on to her pale pink bedspread, and Ford sat down beside her. " You say Starclops taught you that word?" Violet nodded. Ford made a mental note to speak to Starclops later. "Well, as you may be aware, she doesn't exactly have a censor."

"I know." Violet scowled and shivered. "Because of her, I know _exactly_ what the different between boys and girls is."

When Ford realized what she was implying, he decided that talking to Starclops would become a bit more violent. "Um, ignoring what that implies… That, uh, word is what's known as a curse word or swear word. Or, bad word, if you put it in children's terms."

Violet tilted her head in confusion. "What's bad about fu-"

"Ah, ah, ah." Ford wagged his index finger. "Bad words are words that you should never, _ever_ say in public. If wanna say them when you _know_ that no one can hear you, go nuts. That's what I do, and that's what Starclops fails to do."

"Oh." Violet blushed and looked away shamefully. "I-I didn't know."

Ford smiled softly and gently put a hand on her small shoulder. "It's okay, Violet. What's important is that now you do know. And, you won't say that word around people, right?"

Violet smiled at him and nodded. Then, she frowned. "Are there any other bad words I should know about?"

Ford frowned. "Well...yes." He wanted to tell her them, but would it send mixed messages to do so? "I can't actually say them, but maybe I could write them down?"

"Okay. That way, you're not breaking any rules. And, I'll know what not to say to people."

* * *

 _Despite the learning (or lack of it, in my case) I had fun meeting people my age, answering the teacher's questions (until he told me to give the other students a shot at answering), and learning about other species. Hey, I really did learn something! I learned about other species! So, anyway, I give school a Violet-rating of four-out-of-five ice cream scoops._

 _This is Violet Maude Pines, signing off!_

 _PS. Papa says that Maude was his mom's name, so he and my mom made it my middle name. He was close to his mom. Just like how I'm close to my mom! Girl power! I love too, Papa, but girl power trumps everything else. Sorry!_

 **"IZKGLIVN" NVZMH HLNVGSRMT RM ZMLGSVI OZMTFZTV. NZPV LU GSZG DSZG BLF DROO.**

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 **Did you catch any of the hidden clues? Besides the thing in the code? Review if you did! Review even if you didn't. I just want some reviews.**


	12. The Scream

**Warning: Minor spoilers for Weirdmageddon.**

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 **Chapter Eleven: The Scream**

 _Banshees_

 _A common misconception is that a banshee is a ghost. In actuality, banshees are a class all their own. Not quite human, not quite spirit, not really a combination of the two either._

Drawing of a banshee in a long torn dress. Arrow pointing to the dress read: _They seem to prefer torn, ratty clothing for some reason._

 _Banshees are best known for their distinct screams, which are unleashed the day before someone within a five-mile radius dies. Fortunately for me and my research, Violet managed to befriend one at her school. Her name is Cleo Mortem, and she told me a few interesting things about her species._

 _They are only born female. I can only assume that they mate with other species to create new banshees. Though, I'm certainly not going to ask five-year-old little Cleo to confirm THAT._

 _Banshees do not like being around the people they envision the deaths of. Cleo hasn't had any visions of her own yet (too young?), but she says that it makes her mother extremely uncomfortable. I suppose if I foresaw someone's death, I wouldn't want to be around that person either. Sounds pretty damn awkward._

 _Banshees can fly. They prefer walking, but they are capable of flight when necessary._

 _One thing that alarms me is that banshees don't always live very long. Cleo doesn't seem to know how it happens, but apparently visions can lead to a banshees own death. For her sake, I hope that never happens to her. She says she isn't worried about that happening and called a "Walter Worrywart" for bringing it up. Brave girl. I can see why my daughter is friends with her._

 _Weakness: Could the visions themselves be one?_

* * *

Cleo Mortem had always been pale and cold. All banshees were pale and had low body temperatures. Now, however, was the first time she actually felt it.

The night had started out as a harmless sleepover at Violet's apartment. The two of them had been eating popcorn and watching some movie they weren't old enough for (courtesy of the star-shaped lady whom Cleo couldn't remember the name of), when the vision came. Her first vision.

Gods above, it was _awful_.

The image was hazy, and she hadn't been able to make out the face. Still, she could tell it was some kind of huge gopher-creature. Cleo shivered. She could still feel the pain, the dizziness, feel the gopher's heart physically _stop_ …

"Cleo?" Dr. Pines's deep but gentle voice blissfully snapped her out of the memory. Violet's father offered a comforting smile and tucked a strand of platinum-blond hair behind her ear. "We can stop, if you want."

After the vision (and the inevitable scream that came with it), Dr. Pines had been trying to help her make sense of it. Now she was sitting on Violet's bed with Dr. Pines, who was writing down everything in that weird book he seemed to always be carrying. Cleo had known that he couldn't understand, not without actually seeing it for himself, but it felt good to tell someone. She nodded. "Yeah. I'm done." Honestly, they weren't really getting anywhere, and they both knew it.

Dr. Pines closed his book and sat it in the pocket of his trench coat. "Want me to take you home, hun?"

Part of Cleo wanted to say yes, but she just shook her head. Her mom had visions and was fine afterwards. Cleo could do the same. Even though every part of her was suddenly regretting eating all that popcorn. "Can we just go back to the sleepover?"

Dr. Pines looked skeptical, but he nodded and went to go find Violet, as well as tell the others grown-ups how she was doing. Soon enough, a familiar brunette mutant bolted up to her and practically leaped on to the bed beside her. Violet's purple eyes were wild and frightened, as she spoke almost too quickly for the banshee to comprehend. "Are you okay? What was that? Was that a vision? Did you see someone die? Oh my gosh, you saw someone die! Who was it? Was it someone you know? Was it someone you don't know? Was it someone you might have passed by on the street once and forgot about until you saw them in the vision-"

"Violet, _Violet_!" Cleo snapped. She loved her friend, but sometime Violet Pines could just go on and on and _on_.

Violet frowned. "Sorry. I'm just really worried and really scared for you and I'm kinda freaked out and I think it's making talk more. Is it making me talk more? I think it's making me talk more. Do you think it's making me ta-"

"It is."

"Sorry." Violet bit her lip. Probably to keep from starting a whole new rant. "What...What did you see?"

Pain, blood, so much blood, oh Gods. Cleo shivered, and Violet wrapped an arm around her. Cleo leaned into her friend's touch, taking comfort in the warmth. "There...There was a person...on a bed. I couldn't tell who it was, but… The person was hurt. Really, really hurt, and…" Cleo swallowed hard. "And, the person died."

Violet didn't say anything for a long time, which wasn't like her at all. When she finally spoke, her words were quiet and not at all what Cleo had been expecting (not that she was sure of what to expect. "I had a death vision once. At least, I think I did."

Cleo pulled back in shock. "What? When?"

Violet glanced nervously at the door, as though expecting someone to come in or something. Large purple eyes met Cleo's pale gray ones. "This is a secret, and you can't tell _anyone_. Okay?"

Cleo blinked in surprise. "O-Okay."

"A couple weeks ago…" Violet breathed deeply and rubbed her arms. "My dad was examining this weird little frog-thing that he'd captured and stored a special containment unit-"

Cleo managed a little smile and playfully shoved her friend. "Quit using big-people words."

But, Violet didn't even crack a smile at the joke. Whatever she saw...it must have really, _really_ bad. "Sorry. Anyway, my dad ruffled my hair - you know, like dads do - and just after I left the room, I saw…" Cleo started at the tears gathering in the normally happy-go-lucky mutant's eyes. "There was...a big yellow triangle-thingy. And, Papa was there. He called the triangle Bill, and he said he knew its weakness." Violet swallowed. "So, Bill turned him into a statue." Cleo's heart paused, as Violet sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeved. "Papa looked kinda old, so I don't think it'll happen very soon, but it scared me. A-At least, you don't seem like you know the person in your vision, but I don't want my Papa to be a statue…"

Cleo sighed. "As my mom would say, we're both royally screwed."

"What do mean?"

"I mean, we have powers that we didn't ask for that make us see things we don't want to see."

Violet pursed her lips and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But, it's not the worst thing in the world. At least, it we see things ahead of time, we can be better prepared for them."

"...Yeah."

Violet lightly punched her in the arm. "Everything'll be fine. And, look at it this way: maybe you'll never even have meet this...person…"

Violet trailed off, and her eyes focused on nothing. Cleo said her name and snapped her fingers a few times, but nothing changed. Fighting panic, Cleo was about to go find Violet's parents when something occurred to her. Was this what the mutant looked like during one of her own visions?

When Violet came to and shook her head clear, Cleo could have sworn there more tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away so fast that Cleo assumed she'd imagined them. "Was that a vision?"

"Uh," Violet waved off the question. "Don't-Don't worry about it. It was, but… It's not important."

Cleo knew Violet was lying, but she also knew better than to push the matter. If Violet wanted to tell her, then she would.

Little did Cleo know that Violet would never tell her and would even forget about by the time it was too late.

She would never tell her of Cleo's own death that would come several years from now.

 **HVVRMT RH YVORVERMT.**

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 **You know, Violet should really stop keeping her visions to herself. Review!**


	13. Time Heals No Wounds

**Oh, wow. This turned out a lot more angst-y than originally planned. I should really write a happy chapter. Give you guys a breather from all the intensity.**

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 **Chapter Twelve: Time Heals No Wounds**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1997_

A week.

It had been one week since the fire, and Stan was ready to completely lose his mind.

Echo had refused to tell him what had happened in that fire, and Stan had assumed that she just needed some time wrap her mind around it.

But, after a week, Stanley Pines was done waiting.

So, after Echo got back from her shift - she'd been working as a waitress in Greasy's Diner, because she wanted to make her own money, which he understood completely - Stan grabbed her by her shirt and threw her on the couch. When she cussed at him and tried to get up, he plopped down beside her and grabbed her shoulders, holding her firmly in place and completely ignoring her shouts about harassment.

"One week, Echo," he reminded. She stopped struggling and looked curiously at him. Convinced that she wasn't going to leave and or slug him, he released her shoulders and explained as calmly as his temper would allow. "It's been a whole damn week since that fire, and you _still_ haven't told me what happened!" Okay, so it wasn't very calm at all. Echo suddenly seemed extremely interested in twirling her long white and gray hair around her finger. Stan threw his hands up in annoyance. "My God, woman! You're as stubborn as I am!"

"What happened doesn't concern you."

Stan gaped at her then sighed. "Listen, kid-"

"I'm thirty-one."

"Still a lot younger than me." Dammit, why wouldn't she just _look_ at him already? "Echo, I...I'm _worried_ , okay? Ever since that fire, you've acting like my mom after her tenth cup of coffee. Now, I'm not asking for _every_ detail. I just wanna know-"

Echo turned to him, and if looks could kill, Stan would have been a lifeless heap on the floor. "You just wanna know? You just wanna fucking know?" She let out a mocking laugh. "Pops, trust me when I say that the _last_ thing you need to know is what happened."

"Why? Why are so determined to keep this from me?" His voice was steadily getting louder. He didn't care. "Do you know how scared I was? Dammit, _I thought you were dead_!"

" _I wish I was_!" Echo clamped her mouth shut, her skin almost as white as her hair.

Shock and horror overcame his worried anger as her words played through his head like a broken record. Stan's yelling dimmed to a whisper. "What happened?"

Echo leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Stan let her silently mull over what she would tell him. "Mallory showed up." Stan recalled her mentioning Mallory Rogers. (Still couldn't place how he knew the name though.) "I don't know why she was there, and I don't particularly give a shit." Echo huffed a bitter chuckle at a memory. "Bitch tried to convince me that Guardian was the good guy. Then…" Echo turned her head away from him. "Mallory has a special kind of fire manipulation."

"That makes two of you," Stan said before he could stop himself, recalling and cringing at the memory of getting seared with that golden flame. The pain deep enough that it had felt like his very _bones_ were melting. He'd been burned before, and he had the odd-looking brand on his back to prove it, but that day in the forest…

Echo nodded. "Yeah… We were quite literally fighting fire with fire. She threw the first shot. I...I-I should have let her kill me."

Stan couldn't believe his own ears. Where was the strong, unshakable woman he'd come to love like a daughter? "What? Why- You- How could you even think that?"

Echo finally turned to him, tears staining her cheeks and slicing Stan wide open. "That power's called a Shimmer Flame. It's one of the most powerful abilities known to the multiverse. But, it's also highly toxic to the user." She sniffed and furiously wiped at her eyes. "It's _addictive_ , Stan. It's the ultimate high, that power." She blinked in a vain attempt herself of the fresh tears. "I used the power to bring down the forest fire...but I nearly ki-illed you." Stan reached out a hand and wiped at her now-free-flowing tears. "I'm dangerous, Stan. I don't know how you survived, but next time you might not. Use the Shimmer Flame too much, and you're hooked. And, you can't even _function_ without burning something. People go mad from it, Stan." A sob broke out of her. "I-I just wanna die before it gets to that point-"

"Stop it," Stan demanded. "Don't you _dare_ think like that, Echo." He cupped her wet cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "The only danger you possess is being a grade-A bitch."

But, she didn't so much as smile at the joke. "Just throw me out while you can. You'll be safer that way."

Stan's heart shattered completely.

 _Until_ you _make us a fortune, you aren't welcome in this household._

It had broken him enough when his father threw him out before he'd even finished high school. And, now Echo _wanted_ to get tossed out… No. Never. Stan didn't care if she erupted in flames here and now. He wouldn't become his father. "Echo, you're staying here. I don't give half a damn about how 'dangerous' you think you are. It's not like you asked to be a snark, right? You can't help having some fire-power-"

"I'm not a snark. My parents were snarks, so I have the squirrel-thing and memory erasing, but I'm not classified as a snark."

Stan let that sink in...and it did not make sense. "Kid, you lost me."

Echo sighed and ran a hand through her bangs, a habit he'd noticed. "How do I explain? It's...sort of a mess-up with genetics or something? I-I really don't get the science-aspect of it. It's rare, but sometimes there's some weird thing that happens during pregnancy. No one knows what exactly it is, but it results in a baby that's a different species than its parents. A species referred to as a mutant."

Stan sat back on the couch and crossed his arms, thinking over this new information. "And...you're a mutant?"

"Yeah. The Shimmer Flame is an ability exclusive to mutants. Everyone's afraid of us because of that, and I can't say I blame them."

"Stop that."

"What?"

Brown eyes narrowed at black ones. "Stop belittling yourself. It's…weird hearing someone as badass as you hate on yourself." And, it scared the living hell out of him, but he wasn't about to admit that.

At last - at long, frigging _last_ \- Echo smiled. Rolled her eyes and said, "If anyone's weird, Pops, it's you," but smiled.

"Echo, listen to me." Stan put a callused hand on her bony shoulder. "I don't care if you're a snark or a mutant. Hell, I don't care if you're a _unicorn_ , and those things are even bigger assholes than we are." Echo giggled and punched him in the arm, knocking his hand off her shoulder. Stan smiled, the only visible indication that he was relieved to see her back to her old self. "Far as I'm concerned, ya ain't some psycho-bitch. You're just a regular bitch, and I can handle regular bitches far better than psycho ones."

Echo grinned at him, then she tilted her head, observing him. Stan forced himself not to shrink back. The staring made him go from happy to creeped out in less than three seconds. He was about to ask what the hell was so fascinating about his face, when she spoke, her voicing almost longing. "You know something? My dad died when I was a baby, and my mom didn't want a mutant-daughter. She shoved me in an orphanage that sucked balls, so I grew up without a decent parent." Before Stan had a chance to process that, she titled her head to the other side and said, "I bet things would have been pretty great if you'd been my dad instead of whoever actually was."

Stan was floored. Him. She wanted _him_ to be her father. Her childhood sucked more balls than his did, and she thought that he, of all people, would have made it better. His breathing hitched in his throat, and he threw his arms around the girl he _wished_ he could have fathered. He held on tighter and buried his face in her thick hair as she returned his embrace.

"Stan, are you crying?"

"It's d-dusty in here." He sniffed hard. "Don't ruin the moment."

 **VEVI MLGRXV SLD VXSL'H MLG RM GSV GE HVIRVH? DSB RH GSZG? WRW HSV TL HLNVDSVIV? DZH GSV ZCLOLGO RMELOEVW? DSZG SZKKVMVW?**

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 **I think we all know by now that Stan is a closet-sweetheart. Review!**


	14. My Sister's Creeper

**Important chapter! Complete with angst and dark humor! I should really write a happy chapter.**

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 **Chapter Thirteen: My Sister's Creeper**

 _Something is very wrong…_

 _Larman has been running around in a panic all day, and the other residents seem as clueless as I am. The most information I got comes from an older couple who live here, who claim that they heard some sort of commotion last night but are unaware of what it was about. Tad and I traced the building and the rest of the property for some kind of clue. This is what we found:_

 _Blood with an inexplicable shimmer on the front porch, a trail of it leading to Larman's room. VERY suspicious. Starclops thinks that the butler is the killer. Please note that we do NOT currently have any evidence of a murder. Or, a butler._

 _Another thing we noticed is that whenever Larman leaves his room, it's to grab something and bring it back. The items he's taken (that we know of) are mainly food, water, and medical supplies. He even grabbed Nadia an hour ago. Said he needed her "rad healing powers." Haven't heard from either of them since. Starclops thinks the (probably non-existent) butler killed them._

 _This may or may not have anything to do with Larman, but Violet's friend, Cleo - who was spending the night with us - has been almost as on-edge on Larman. She claims that she feels "super cold and achy in all her parts." Last night she had a vision of someone dying, and she told me that banshees can't stand being close to the people they have visions of._

 _REALLY hoping there's no butler right now…_

* * *

Nadia didn't know what to expect when Larman grabbed her by the arm and almost wrenched her shoulder while pulling her to his bedroom. Had it been anyone else, she would have fought back, fearing harassment or worse. But, she trusted Larman and figured that he had some kind of legal reason.

She just hadn't expected _this_.

The person lying on Larman's bed was a brown gopher-creature like him but clearly female. Dried blood and hastily dressed wounds covered her body, as well as patches of missing fur, and she did not appear conscious. Bloody bandages lay on the floor around her, and a bottle of antiseptic had been knocked over and spilled onto the carpet. A plate of uneaten food and a half-full bottle of water sat on the night stand.

A shaky "What happened?" was the only thing that Nadia could force from her own lips.

Instead of answering, Larman forced her into the chair next to the broken woman. "You gotta help her, dude! She's hurt bad, and I- Oh, gosh, I-I don't know what else to do!"

Nadia nodded. Helping this woman was more important than getting answers. (Of course, she would definitely ask again when things calmed down.) She reached out and gently started to peel off the bandage on the woman's arm-

Larman gripped her wrist so tight that it hurt. "W-What are you doing, dude?"

"I can't heal her unless I make direct contact with the injuries," Nadia explained calmly, even though Larman's reaction truly was scaring her.

With a pained look on his face, he hesitantly let go of her wrist. "Okay…"

Nadia peeled off the bandage, trying to ignore her friend's anxious squeak. She choked back one of her own when she saw the injury underneath. The flesh and even the _muscle_ underneath the bandage was torn - no, _burned_ \- off, exposing charred bone. Blood - _glittery_ blood - flowed out of the now-open wound, and Nadia fought back a wave of nausea as she rested her hands on the wound. The tingling warmth of power surged down her arms and through her fingertips, as she attempted to fix the injury as well as she could. She managed to momentarily stanch the bleeding, but she knew it wouldn't last long.

Letting go of the injury, she quickly wiped her hands on her jeans - they were covered in paint anyway, so hopefully no one would notice - and re-bandaged the wound as sadness thick as the blood washed over her. She knew what happened to the poor woman.

ShimmerFlame. She'd recognize it anywhere. And, short of prolonging the inevitable, there was nothing she could do. Frankly, this woman was lucky to have survived as long as she did.

Larman's small voice brought her back to reality. "I know the ShimmerFlame's lethal." He knew about it? Nadia supposed the mutant-ability wasn't exactly _un_ known. "I just thought… Well, you're a mutant, Nadia. Is there, like, some mutant-thing that can help her?"

Nadia couldn't look at his face. Hearing his grief was hard enough. She didn't think she handle seeing it too. "Um…"

Larman's quiet, "Oh," told her that he got the message.

"Who is she, Larman?" Nadia asked, brushing a still-healing hand through the woman's soft curls, hoping to do everything she could.

The male-gopher was silent for a while then said with a shaky voice. "Her name is Laurel. She...She's my big sis."

Her heart cracked, and all Nadia managed to say was, "Oh."

Larman walked up to the bed and gently took his sister's hand in his. "Our mom died when I was a baby, so she's always kinda doubled as my mom. Does-Does that make sense?" Nadia nodded. "A couple years ago, Laurel got involved with some bad dudes."

"A gang?"

"Um... Sort of. Not really? I don't know exactly. She never told me much about them. All I know is they're all mutants. Laurel's a mutant too, you see." Nadia processed this as Larman composed himself. "One day, Laurel called me, asking for help. She found out that the mutants were evil, but their leader got really mad when she tried to leave. I tried to help, but he said he wouldn't let her go unless I…"

Nadia looked at him then. He was physically tense and seemed to be having a mental war with himself. "Unless you what?"

Larman swallowed hard, his dark eyes still locked on his unconscious sister. "He wanted me to keep Ford out of his way."

Nadia's stomach twisted. "Is that why you let us stay here?"

"Part of it. But, I honestly _do_ like you dudes, and I would've let you stay anyway."

"But, why does this guy want Ford out of his way?"

Larman sighed and shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine, girl-dude."

They were silent for a moment, until a certain realization made Nadia's blood boil. "We've been staying here for _five years_. This guy _just_ brought Laurel back?"

"And, he brought her back like _this_!" Larman's shaking was from fury now. "And, for _what_? Because she wanted to leave? Because, she wanted to fight back? If I find that bastard, I'll...I'll...I'll do many bad things to him!"

Nadia put a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed slightly at the touch. "Who is he, Larman?"

"Not sure. He calls himself Guardian, which is kind of ironic, considering…"

Nadia nodded. "Yeah."

"You know...Laurel's been kind of in and out of consciousness since she got here this morning. She keeps saying stuff I don't understand. Something about an Enhanced and a Protector and junk. I-I don't really know what it means."

"Ford's a Protector," Nadia recalled, "but I don't know what that has to do with anything. And, I've never heard of an Enhanced."

They stayed with Laurel in silence until she died an hour later.

* * *

 _Tragedy has struck. The reason that Larman was so tense was because his older sister, Laurel, was found critically injured on the porch. She died less than ten minutes before I started writing this. I feel the greatest sorrow for poor Larman, who threw Nadia out of his room and has since locked himself inside. For a good while, Starclops continued to blame the butler we don't have. Until, she randomly said that my father was the killer, which… makes even less sense than a butler doing it. (Although, I'm pretty sure she was joking in her own sick brand of comedy and bad timing for it.) In actuality, the culprit's identity is still unclear. All we know is his alias…_

 _Guardian_

 _Not much is known about him, besides the fact he apparently maims people just because he can. He is a mutant, though what powers he possesses is unknown to me. Nadia didn't say what the cause of Laurel's death was, so I assume that means she doesn't know. Though, it must have been pretty bad, if Nadia's powers couldn't save her._

 _One thing that disturbs me is that Guardian wants to distance himself from me. As in, me specifically. This brings up an interesting theory: is Guardian the evil I am destined to face? It is entirely possible, but at this point I have no way of knowing for sure. Based on what I've learned (which isn't much), the man has something against Protectors (is this what he has against me?), and… Well, I've never heard of an "Enhanced," but I intend to find out what it is and what is has to do with Guardian._

 **GSV YFGOVI WRW RG! GSV YFGOVI ZODZBH WLVH RG!**

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 **The Enhanced was thought up by PFDroids5198. The ShimmerFlame was inspired by the _Throne of Glass_ series by Sara J Maas. I highly recommend it. Review!**


	15. Scary Mary, Quite Contrary

**Summary: Wanting to keep up his image of "Master of Fright," Stan decides to turn the Mystery Shack into a haunted house. But, things take a frightening turn when he and Echo summon Bloody Mary.**

 **I promised you guys a happy chapter, and I sort of delivered. It's a Halloween special, and I think it turned out pretty well.**

 **No secrets in this one.**

 **Or, are there? Maybe you have to squint to see them.**

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 **Chapter Fourteen: Scary Mary, Quite Contrary**

 _Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1997_

Halloween was quickly approaching, and Stan couldn't have been more excited. He had been scaring the sugar out of the trick-or-treaters every Halloween and Summerween since he'd arrived in Gravity Falls, earning him the nickname "Master of Fright." Since Echo had arrived and started helping him, the townsfolk had started calling them "Partners in Fright."

So, the two of them split up and wandered through the convenience store in search of inspiration and decorations that were not cheesy. Echo was observing some zombie makeup, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Well, well," Deputy Blubbs said. "If it isn't the Mistress of Fright, herself."

Echo grinned and winked at the African American. "That's right."

Blubbs laughed and looked around. "If you're here, then Stan can't be far behind." Little did he know, the Master of Fright was sneaking up behind him, wearing a green monster mask. Echo didn't mention it. "I can't wait to see what you two come up with this year!"

Stan grabbed his shoulders and roared. Blubbs screamed and whipped around. Stan took off the mask, and he and Echo laughed hysterically. After a moment, Blubbs laughed too, saying, "You got me! You guys got me good!"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Stan said, "Come on, Echo. I got the best idea from staring at an over-sized barrel of probably-fake blood!"

Echo grinned. "I don't know what you're planning, but I love it anyway."

She started chanting, "Partners in Fright!" and Stan joined in. They stopped and stared awkwardly at Blubbs, when started doing it too.

Realizing that he was embarrassing himself, Blubbs coughed into his hand, excused himself and went to another aisle.

Once he was gone, Echo asked, "So, what's the plan this year?"

Stan grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking like a super villain stereotype. "Something truly terrifying. This year, we're summoning a beast known simply as...Bloody Mary." Lighting crashed, and Stan frowned and looked up. "Huh. I think they need to fix the lights in here."

"Yeah, but this stereo sure works," Echo said, pointing to a stereo on the shelf next to her. "It even comes with a CD of Halloween sounds." She pressed a button on it, and the lightning sound effect played again.

"Let's steal it," Stan suggested.

* * *

"So, who exactly _is_ Bloody Mary?" Echo asked.

Stan lit a candle and sat it in front of the bathroom mirror. He put out his match and shrugged. "Beats me. Some demon-lady or something. I just know that she's scary. If she's real, we'll make a _fortune_ at this year's haunted house!"

"And, if she's not?"

"Then, we'll put you in a wig and cover you in fake blood."

"Hm. Why not?"

Stan turned off the lights. The only light source was the tiny flame, which gave their reflections in the mirror a faint ominous glow. The acrid scent of cheap, burning wax filled the air. Echo was both nervous and excited. If this "Bloody Mary" was anything like the other Gravity Falls creatures, then she was sure to pack a punch. Assuming she existed.

Stan cracked his knuckles. "Alright. All we gotta do now is say her name three times while staring at the mirror.

Hearts racing, they chanted. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." They waited. And, waited. And...waited…

After _way_ too long, Stan huffed, "Well, that was anticlimactic. I'm gonna get that barrel of fake blood I stole."

He left to go find it, as Echo stood glaring at the mirror. Dressing up as a demon to scare people would be fun, but she was really curious about this Bloody Mary. Sighing, she turned on the lights, picked up the candle, and blew it out.

The door slammed shut. Confused, Echo put down the candle and tried to open the door, but it was locked. She called for Stan. He didn't answer. She cursed under her breath and rolled her eyes at what was surely the human trying to scare her. "Stan, open the door."

Something red dripped onto her hand. She looked up in shock. The ceiling was covered in a red liquid, and it was steadily running down the walls. Pulse gaining speed, she squeaked out Stan's name. This was a prank. This _had_ to be a prank. A feminine giggle came from something, but Echo was alone in the bathroom.

Her shaking hands struggled with the doorknob. "Whoever you are, y-you better let me out of here _right now_." Red poured over her hands, and she jerked them away from the now-wet knob. Red. There was red everywhere. Echo swallowed hard. "I-I'm g-g-getting really mad!"

The giggling came again, louder this time. This was no prank. Echo hesitantly turned her head to the mirror. It wasn't her reflection that looked back at her. A woman - face hideously scarred and deformed - grinned at her with rotten black teeth.

* * *

Stan couldn't help being disappointed. Bloody Mary got so much hype that he was almost certain she was real. He sighed and opened the closet, trying to remember where he'd put that barrel. It was in the closet, right? Or, was it in the attic? Or, the basement? Damn memory. He thought it wasn't supposed to go bad until he was sixty. Of course, he _was_ fifty-four…

A scream halted his thoughts. "Echo!" He bolted, calling her name and searching the house for her. Echo never screamed like that. Something was very wrong.

He spotted something that made his heart stop. The bathroom door was closed, and a pool of red had leaked out from beneath it. _No, no, no!_ He threw the door open and forced himself to remain conscious. Blood covered the walls, the floor, everything, and in the middle of it…

Stan fell to his knees and cradled the bloody body in his arms, shaking the entire time. "Echo! Echo, wake up! What happened? _Dammit, woman, open your eyes_!" She didn't respond. It took everything in him to keep from sobbing. Then, she slowly blinked her eyes open, and Stan felt ready to faint with relief. Then, panic seized him once more. "Echo, we-we gotta get you to the hospital."

Echo smiled. Wide. Too wide. Her eyes were still black, but the white parts (Stan had no idea what they were called) were dark red. She reached up and caressed his cheek. Her voice both was and wasn't her own. "Oh, Stanley. You're so sweet."

Stan jerked back in horror and shot to his feet. "You...Y-You're not Echo…"

"Echo" giggled and stood up. "Call me Mary."

Bloody Mary was real. And, she was in Echo's body. Oh, God. Oh, frigging _God_!

Stan tried to back out of the room, but Mary quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and buried Echo's fingers through his gray-brown hair. He shuddered at the touch but was too horrified to pull away. It was more than unnerving, seeing Echo's face look at him with such...lust.

Feigning bravery, Stan narrowed his eyes and demanded, "What did you do to Echo?"

Mary scraped her nails against his neck. He stiffened against the sting and the trickle of what was hopefully sweat running down his neck. "Ah, yes, Echo. She's pretty. A natural beauty, and yet," she pulled away from him and looked disdainfully at Echo's orange hoodie and black yoga pants, "she wears such tacky clothing. What a waste of a beautiful body." Then she looked up at him, suddenly looking terrified.

And, her eyes were a normal color.

"Stan, help me!" Echo begged.

She blinked, and her eyes were red again. "Whoops!" Mary put a hand over her mouth and giggled. "That one slipped out."

"Get out of her." Seeing the terror in Echo's eyes… Suddenly, he was more pissed than scared. "Get out of her body, or I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll what?" Mary asked, tilting her head and grinning like they were playing some sick game. "Do you _really_ want to hurt Juliette's body?"

"Um… Who's Juliette?"

Mary frowned. "She never told you? Echo's a nickname. Her real name is Juliette Eliza Tartal. But, what's in a name? Echo, Juliette, Mary? We're all the same."

"The hell you are!" Stan slammed the bathroom door shut and ran.

He ran for the vending machine, punched in the code, and rushed down the stairs as fast as he could without falling. Entering the elevator, he pushed the "3" button repeatedly until the doors closed. As the elevator lowered, Stan allowed himself a moment to breathe. He needed Ford's journal. Surely, there was _something_ in there that would help Echo. When the doors reopened, he ran up to the desk, nearly tripping over some junk that he never bothered to pick up. He opened the journal and skimmed through it for something useful.

He was about to throw the book across the room in frustration, when one page caught his eye.

 _Turns out exorcisms aren't that difficult. The hard part is getting the spirit to stick around long enough to for you to say the incantation in its entirety. The even harder part is getting your dignity back afterwards._

 _In order to exorcise a ghost from a person's body, one must simply recite this incantation (I couldn't make this up if I wanted to):_

 _Hullabaloo and Howdy Doo_

 _Musty Prawns and Timbuktu_

 _Yeltzy Bye and Hippity Hoo_

 _Kick 'em in the Dishpan Hoo Hoo Hoo_

Stan reread the incantation. And, then read it again, just to make sure his glasses were working properly. _Kick 'em in the dishpan, hoo hoo hoo?_ That couldn't possibly be right.

"You know, you really should have closed that secret entrance."

Stan whipped around at the voice. Mary was smiling at him, still looking ready to hump him the first chance she got. Praying to whoever was listening, he grabbed the journal and started reciting the incantation. "Uh, Hullabaloo and howdy doo, musty praw-"

Mary swiped the journal from his hands, and it fell to the floor beneath them. He tried to lunge for it, but she grabbed his arms and somehow managed to pin him to the desk. Books, papers, and equipment fell off as he struggled against her grip. Since when could Echo's body hold him down like this? Must have been a possession-thing.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, still fighting her hold on him.

He fought even harder when she started _straddling him_ , but she didn't budge. "That's the question, isn't it?" she responded calmly. She dug her nails (were Echo's nails always that sharp?) deeper into his arms, and he paused in his struggle, when he realized that he was basically just helping her draw blood. "Centuries ago, I was just a girl, living in right here in Gravity Falls. But, I was never anyone special. Things got worse, when I learned that I could create fire from my very skin. Pretty, golden fire. ShimmerFlame, they call it. My parents thought I was a witch and attacked me, leaving my face dreadfully scarred. I was shunned by everyone in town, even those who didn't know about the ShimmerFlame."

Part of Stan wanted to be sympathetic, but it wasn't easy when he was being harassed by a ghost possessing his best friend. Plus, Mary didn't even seem upset about her backstory. She probably was when it happened, but now she was smiling and using a monotone that sent chills down his spine.

"The final straw was the day a couple of mean, drunk boys ripped off my dress, leaving me in only my undergarments. Then, my period caught me off-guard, and everyone saw my blood going down my leg. They chanted 'Bloody Mary' three times before they all started laughing. I'd had enough of their hatred and judgement, so used my own fire to burn myself. I was never loved like the other girls," she cupped his face in her hands, "and I've never been with a man before." She kissed him, biting his lip hard enough that he could taste his own blood.

 _I'm sorry, Echo._ He punched Mary in the temple, and she collapsed to the floor. Stan bent down, scooped up the journal, and quickly flipped to the page with the incantation. "Hullabaloo and howdy d-"

With an inhuman shriek, Mary tackled him from behind and sent them hurdling to the wood floor. Dazed from the impact, Stan tried desperately to grab the journal. He grunted in pain, as Mary clawed off his shirt, blood welling from the fresh claw marks on his back. " _Love me_!" she demanded.

Stan grabbed the journal just as Mary pulled the remainder of his shirt out from under him, flipping him over. He fought dizziness as he held out the journal, as though it would somehow shield him from being raped by a ghost (or Echo or however that worked).

Mary screamed, a demonic sound plagued with horror and agony. " _Don't look at me_!"

Odd. Stan stepped in front of the book he was holding. The only thing he found was his reflection in the shiny six-fingered hand on the cover. The other reflection…

Suddenly, Stan understood. Mary wasn't seeing Echo's reflection… Mary was seeing _her own_ reflection. And, damn it was ugly. He watched through the reflection as she cried and screamed that she was hideous and shouldn't be seen. In any other circumstance, he might have felt bad for her.

But, all that mattered was that she was distracted! Stan reopened the journal to the ridiculous incantation, holding the book up so that Bloody Mary could still see her reflection. As she wailed, Stan recited the bizarre spell as quickly as his mouth would allow.

"Hullabaloo and howdy doo, musty prawns and Timbuktu, yeltzy bye and hippity hoo, kick 'em in the dishpan hoo hoo hoo!"

Echo's body glowed green, so bright that Stan had to shield his eyes, and Mary shouted in distress, " _Gnitnahc yltsohg gnitnahc gnitnahc gnitnahc gnitnahc yltsohg gnitnahc yltsohg!_ "

The light vanished, and Stan risked a look. Echo's body lay unconscious on the floor, but was she Echo or…?

"E-Echo?" Stan called tentatively.

The body groaned and shakily stood up, gripping the desk for support. Stan held his breath as she turned around.

Her eyes were a normal color, and she gave him a disbelieving smile. "Kick 'em in the dishpan hoo hoo hoo?"

Stan tried to laugh, but the world started spinning. He vaguely registered falling to his knees before blacking out.

* * *

Stan woke up to the sound of beeping and the smell of sterilizer. The white walls and bright lights nearly blinded him. He glanced to his side and found Echo asleep in a chair next to him, her head tilted back in a way that would probably hurt when she woke up. He tried to sit up, but his back was killing him more than usual. Where was he?

Stan reached out and gently shook Echo's shoulder. She woke up, and her face contorted in pain. She cussed under breath and rubbed the back of her neck. Stan smirked. He had a feeling her neck would be sore.

Then, he remembered what happened and shrank back. "Echo, are you...you?"

Echo lowered her hand and smiled. "Yeah. I'm me."

"Good. Um... Look, I'm sorry I-"

She held up her hand. "Don't apologize. How were you supposed to know any of this would happen? I'm just glad you got that creep out of me."

Stan chuckled. "Well, I certainly can't have my favorite mutant possessed by some freak lady."

"And, you probably didn't want to get raped by one either." Echo frowned in confusion. "Or...raped by me? How would that work exactly?"

"Don't know, don't want to. Now, where the hell am I?"

"Hospital. I called an ambulance after you passed out." She looked sadly up at his heart monitor, which was apparently where the beeping was coming from. "You lost a lot of blood."

Stan shrugged. "Um, no duh. It was _Bloody_ Mary."

Echo smiled at him. "I'm just glad you're well enough to joke around. Soon, you'll be outta here, and…" Her smile suddenly seemed forced. "And, I'll pretend to be Bloody Mary and scare the trick-or-treaters."

Oh, right. Stan's heart sank at the thought. He _really_ wasn't up for that kind of terror anymore. "Actually, I wouldn't taking a break from the whole Partners in Fright thing this year. Maybe we could just spend the night handing out candy and watching bad horror movies like normal people."

Echo nodded, looking immensely relieved. "Yeah. Like normal people."

* * *

As promised, Halloween night was spent handing out candy and watching bad movies. _Really_ bad movies, as it turned out.

" _You're watching the Gravity Falls Bargain Movie Showcase. Coming up next:_

 _Jasper, the Adorable Dead Kid_

 _The Evil Mystery Man Whom You Know Better Than You Think_

 _Try Not to Think About the Hour of Haunting_

 _The Curse of Internet Fanfiction_

 _The Demon in the Mattress_

 _I Was a 2016 Presidential Candidate_

 _Monsters From the Bag of Tortilla Chips"_

"Well, these are the worst movies ever," Stan commented before stuffing a handful of mostly-not-burnt popcorn into his mouth.

Echo shrugged. "Beats dealing with real-life monsters. Barely."

* * *

 _October 31, 1997_

 _Dear Stanford,_

 _Echo fell asleep in the middle of "The Evil Mystery Man Whom You Know Better Than You Think," (a hokey "thriller" about a creepy guy in a black suit that turns out to be the protagonist's butler; saw that coming), so I figured I'd write you another letter._

 _Long story short, Echo and I made the mistake of summoning Bloody Mary. The chick possessed Echo and would have raped and/or killed me if I hadn't managed to use that ridiculous incantation. Assuming you don't already have a journal entry about Bloody Mary in one your other journals, I thought I'd take the time to write one for you. You're welcome. (There's no pictures, 'cause I suck at drawing.)_

 _Summoning is like how everyone says: dark room with a mirror, light a candle, say her name three times. She doesn't appear right away, so get the hell out while you can. She possesses good-looking women, because she's hideously scarred and deformed. Also, she really likes drawing blood from whoever's nearby. Makes sense in a twisted, demonic way._

 _Weakness: Ironically, seeing her own reflection. Even if she's possessing someone, she'll see her own gross face in a reflective surface. It freaks her out long enough for you to say the exorcism incantation in your first journal._

 _Still, I feel kinda bad for her. The only reason she went nuts is because people hated her for her deformities. Kinda like you and your extra fingers, I suppose._

 _I'd write more, but I'm kinda tired. Long day of ghosts, sexual harassment, and hospital bills. I think Echo had the right idea, not forcing her legs to move and just sleeping on the couch. I think I'll do that to._

 _Your brother,_

 _Stanley_

 **NLMHGVIH ZIV SRWWVM RM GSV OVZHG VCKVXGVW KOZXVH.**

* * *

 **The incantation is from the _Courage: the Cowardly Dog_ episode, "The Demon in the Mattress." Ignore Echo's initials! Juliette Eliza Tartal is not my name! I just kinda threw that in there.**

 **Review, and Happy Halloween!**


	16. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

**Okay, so I intended on making this a fluffy chapter packed full of Fordia. And, I did! Then, I got this idea, and this chapter ended up becoming darker and more foreboding toward the end. Except for the parts with Starclops being...Starclops.**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: Once Bitten, Twice Shy**

 _Things have calmed down since Laurel's death, but that doesn't mean everything's normal. Or, as normal as things can get around here._

 _I wish I knew how to help Larman. Naturally, he's been far from himself since his sister's passing. Maybe it's my Protector instincts talking, but Larman's been rather distant and, dare I say, reminiscent of that old movie,_ _The Stepford Wives_ _. You know, in the sense that his supposed happiness is totally fake. But, I suppose there's really nothing anyone can do but be supportive._

 _And, honestly, Laurel - or anyone, really - dying kind of reminds me of just how short life is. The idea that one day your body could just...stop is a scary thought. Not to mention that not everyone dies of old age. Some pass on long before. Reminds me of my older brother, Sherman. He was enlisted in the United States Army and was killed in the Vietnam War. He was only thirty-five years of age. Kind of makes you realize just how precious life is and how you shouldn't waste_

A moan drew Ford's attention away from his journal. He turned his chair away from his desk and found his wife standing at her easel, a brush in hand, painting a new project that he couldn't quite make out at the moment. Nothing unusual there. Then he noticed with alarm that her brush was shaking, and her free hand was clinging to the easel, as if she was trying to steady herself. She swayed on her feet, and Ford was immediately at her side. He caught her from behind just as she collapsed.

"Nadia, what's wrong?" Ford asked, putting one hand over her heart to be certain it was beating. It was. Too fast. "Are-Are you ill? Should I get you to Mighty Med?"

Nadia moaned softly. "No, I…"

Her dark gray skin was a few shades too light, he realized. "You look pale. Do you need some water? Some food? Anything?"

"B-Blood…"

Oh, that's what was wrong. Ford sighed. "Nadia, you told me you fed last week."

While mutants, like Nadia, were a class all their own, the ones who weren't born to other mutants took on some of the traits of their parents' species. Nadia was born to two vampires. While she didn't need nearly as much blood for survival, Ford calculated that she was okay if she drank some - "feeding," she called it - at least once a month. And, apparently she hadn't.

As he led her to their bedroom (relieved that their daughter was at school and didn't have to see her mother like this), Ford gently reprimanded, "Why do you keep doing this? You know you're allowed to feed off me when you need to."

Nadia glanced up at him, looking a lot like a child who'd just been caught stealing from a cookie jar. Her violet eyes lacked their usual brightness. How long had she gone without blood? "I just don't like asking. Most people freak out when you ask to...you know."

Suddenly a little hurt, Ford opened the door to their room and led her inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "I don't freak out." Not anymore, at least. When Tad had first informed him about her feedings, he was horrified. What human wouldn't be? He'd questioned her on the subject, and she'd begrudgingly confirmed it, so naturally he was rather frightened. Of course, that had been mere days after meeting her, so he'd had yet to decide if he could truly trust her or not.

Then, he'd seen the look on her face when he'd (not entirely) jokingly requested that she _not_ drain him completely. She'd been so shocked and hurt that she'd kept at least three feet away from him for the rest of the day. Curse his social awkwardness, because he hadn't even noticed until Starclops had slapped him in the face and told (read: screamed at) him about how sensitive she was. He and Nadia had managed to talk it out, but she'd still spent the next day distant from him. The sheer guilt had been enough to make him want to curl up in a hole. So, when he'd seen that she needed it, he hesitantly let her drink from him. It had pinched a little, but then he merely felt oddly sleepy.

That was the last time she'd had to feed off of Tad and Starclops. And, according to Nadia, their blood tasted like cough syrup.

Ford carefully sat her on the bed and sat beside her. He pulled his shirt collar to the side. "Go on."

Nadia still seemed anxious. Which was bad, because she also looked ready to faint again. "Are you sure?"

Ford couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Must we always do this?"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable." Nadia rubbed her arm and avoided his gaze. "And, I don't want to drink too much…"

"I trust you."

Nadia smiled and muttered, "I'm worried you might regret that." The smile and playful tone didn't reach her eyes, but she shifted to sit behind him. She placed her hand over the one he was still using to hold back his collar. "Ready?"

Ford tilted his neck, further exposing his flesh. "Go ahead."

He held back a flinch as he felt her teeth sink into his neck, then his body relaxed as the familiar numbness eliminated the pain. The feeling of being drained was difficult to explain in words. He felt her breathe in through her mouth as she sucked in the liquid then exhale through her nose, only to start the cycle again. Her tongue swept back and forth on his neck as she tasted him. Ford shivered with pleasure. Feeding had always seemed so intimate to him. Every time, it stirred something primal in him. His internal reaction had frightened him at first. Now, he didn't give half a damn if she drained him completely. He would have been perfectly fine dying drunk on his own lust. Or, maybe that was the blood loss talking. It was hard to tell.

Nadia raised her head from his neck, and he stifled a yawn. Feeding always made him tired. He theorized that it was self-preservation. It was a scientific fact that the human body recovered quicker during slumber, so it made sense that his brain would send the rest of his body a signal that he was tired. Perhaps his body used his nap to regenerate blood cells and return his blood circulation to normal.

But, Ford didn't ponder that theory for long, because when Nadia gently lowered his head on to his pillow and softly kissed his lips, everything even remotely factual fled from his mind.

Looking fully recovered, Nadia took off his glasses and said, "Go to sleep, Ford. I love you."

"Mm. Y'too," Ford slurred before letting the darkness take him.

* * *

Nadia reluctantly left Stanford to his nap and quietly closed the door behind her. She licked her lips, her entire being boiling with desire. Feeding was a necessity for her, but it didn't feel nearly as intoxicating as it did when she drank from her husband. She wondered if it was as intimate for him as it was for her.

Her musings were interrupted when Starclops flew up to her and-

Was the high making Nadia see things, or was this seriously happening?

"Hey, could you gimme a hand, girl? I accidentally got this donut stuck in my eyeball." Starclops pulled on said donut. When it (somehow…) remained stuck, she shrugged. "I guess this is my life now."

Nadia just stared at her. "Um...I'm not… What?"

Starclops yanked again, and the partially eaten chocolate donut came out with a cartoonish _pop_. She sighed in relief. "Much better." She sat it on her top-point and commented, "You are looking much better as well. You finally get some blood in your system?"

Nadia nodded. "Yeah. Ford's taking a nap right now."

"Cool. It really makes me happy to know you've found someone else who accepts your ShimmerFlame." Nadia tensed. Starclops blinked in realization. "Er, you _did_ tell him, right?" No answer. "Nadia?"

Nadia sighed and leaned her back against the door, a familiar dread sapping away her euphoria. "I know he wouldn't care, Starclops. I just…"

"I get it, girl," Starclops assured, her eye softening. "But, you realize he's going to find out soon enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, your daughter's a mutant too, you know. _All_ mutants share the ShimmerFlame." Despite already knowing that, Nadia felt herself pale. "Violet might only have her Future Sight now, but sooner or later she's gonna have the ShimmerFlame just like every other mutant. And, if I know Ford as well as I think I do, he's going to ask some questions. Questions that you'll have to answer, whether you want to or not."

Rubbing both her arms and staring at her bare feet, Nadia nodded sadly. "I know. I'll tell him."

"Soon?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

Nadia rubbed her forehead in frustration. Not frustration toward the star-shaped demoness, but frustration toward herself and how scared she was. She knew that Ford wouldn't care about her powers. How understanding he was when she confessed to killing her own parents proved that. But, at the same time, he wasn't aware of just how _lethal_ she could become if she gave into the temptation to use the ShimmerFlame. It had been years since she'd even allowed an ember of it to free itself from her skin. On worse days, she could _feel_ the madness threatening her. She didn't know what would be worse: going mad quickly from using the ShimmerFlame or going mad slowly from _not_ using it. Just last week, she had been out in the woods, helping Ford with his research, when she had seen blood pool at her feet, golden flames erupting from it and swallowing her up as she screamed. She shivered as she remembered the pain as she was burned alive…

Only for her husband to shake her harshly by her shoulders, snapping her out of the hallucination. Poor, innocent Stanford had been convinced that it was the work of the Mismagius (a Pokemon said to cause hallucinations) that they had been searching for. Nadia had went along with it, terrified of telling him the truth.

"Nadia?" Starclops concerned voice brought her back to reality. The demoness cupped Nadia's cheek in her tiny cheek. "Honey?" Nadia's chest tightened. Starclops only used such tender terms when she was _really_ worried. "Hun, are you alright?"

"Yeah." Nadia nodded, and Starclops took her hand away. "Yeah, sorry. Just-Just thinking."

Starclops didn't push her for more. "So, will you tell him?"

"Yes," Nadia said, even though the thought almost made her miss the hallucinations.

"Good." Starclops picked the donut up off her top-point and offered it to her. "Have a donut. It'll make you feel better."

Nadia smiled and shook her head. "You know I don't like chocolate."

Starclops smacked her top-point. " _Blarg_! I'll never understand that about you. Chocolate is the greatest thing in the multiverse!" On that note, she morphed her eye into a mouth and shoved the donut in it. "Ow! Ow!" Only for the donut to get stuck again. "Ah, come on! I just wanna eat it!"

Nadia couldn't help laughing. Starclops was only person she knew who could go from serious to silly in under three seconds.

 **"GSRH RH SLD BLFI UZNROB DROO XLNV GL RGH VMW...YB URIV." -** _ **GSV HVXIVG**_ **YB I.O. HGRMV**

* * *

 **I know what you're thinking: "Why a donut?" To which, I say, "Why _not_ a donut?"**

 **But, seriously, you should pay attention to that code (atbash, just to remind you). It's from an awesome story by an equally awesome author. Loved him when I was a kid, still love him to this day. Review!**


	17. ShimmerFlame

**It's short, but it's important! There's HUGE hint in this one, but you _really_ have to squint to see it!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen: ShimmerFlame**

 _When I awoke from my feeding-induced slumber, Nadia told me that she'd been keeping something from me. Naturally, I was intrigued and a tad worried, given how nervous she looked. She told me about one of her powers. Not ice or healing or night vision. No, this was a power I'd heard about in passing but had always assumed was a myth._

* * *

Ford groggily opened his eyes and yawned into his fist. He found that got his best sleeps after feedings.

"Sleep okay?" asked the gray blob sitting on the edge of the bed.

Ford smiled at his wife and sat up, stretching. "Yeah. Can I, uh…?" She put his glasses on his face, and he reached up and adjusted them, his surroundings coming into focus. "Thanks." Then, he noticed that she seemed nervous. "Hey, is everything alright?"

Nadia bit her lip and turned to face him, suddenly seeming very interested in the bedspread. "There's, um… Do-Do you love me?"

"What?" Where had _that_ come from? "Of course I do. Why would you even feel the need to ask?"

"Do you _really_ love me?"

"Nadia-"

"I mean, no matter what I said or did, would you-"

" _Yes_!" Now, she was just scaring him. "Nadia, what's going on? You're acting like my mother after too much coffee."

Nadia hugged her knees to her chest, still refusing to look at him. Ford's stomached knotted. Whatever was wrong, it must have been _really_ wrong. "I...I've been...keeping something from you."

Ford hated how fragile she looked and sounded, like she would break if he so much as breathed on her. "Well, what is it? It can't be that bad."

Nadia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and finally looked at him, fear visible on her face. "It's one of my powers. I-I have one I haven't told you about."

She paused, and Ford nodded, encouraging. "Okay."

"Have...you ever heard of the ShimmerFlame?"

He shrugged. "Only in passing. Personally, I don't believe it. An ability that can that can drive its wielders insane? That can level an entire _dimension_? Sounds like something my pa would have made up to make me and brothers behave." His rambling ceased when he saw how tense his wife was. Suddenly it clicked. "Oh… So...it _is_ real… Fascinating." Excited by this new information, Ford pulled his pen and journal out of his trench coat (he'd slept in his clothes again) and flipped his journal to a new page. "Okay. Now tell me everything you can about-"

" _Stanford_!" Nadia snapped. "You have to be _joking_!"

Startled, Ford closed the journal. "Uh, sorry. This…" He reached over sat it and the pen on the nightstand. "This is a bad time." He awkwardly coughed into his fist. "So, ShimmerFlame. You can do that."

Nadia groaned and put her head in hands. "Everything you said is _true_. It's so dangerous, it eats away at your mind." Stanford's heart lurched when he heard a sob wrench itself from her throat. "I'm losing it, Ford."

"No, you're not." Ford positioned himself on his knees and placed a six-fingered hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You have a powerful ability, but that doesn't make you crazy."

Nadia lifted her head up and wiped the tears from her face. "When I freaked out in the forest? That wasn't a Pokemon, Ford. It was _me_. I haven't used it in years, and it's eating away at my mind. I'm going _crazy_."

"Then, the solution is obvious," Ford pointed out. "Just use it."

"I _can't_! That's the problem! If I use it, I may not be able to _stop_. It's addictive, Stanford. It's like...like every drug in the multiverse _combined_! I'll keep using it, and I'll go insane from _that_!"

Ford wanted to say something, but he was too shocked. Thoughts whirled in his head as he tried to make sense of all this. Based on all she'd told him, there was a strong risk of her going insane either way, and he didn't even want to think about that.

" _I can feel my mind growing weaker as the days pass. And, soon, I fear that I may be completely gone."_

He'd lost Bill to madness, and that had been hard enough…

"And, Violet…" Nadia covered her mouth, but it did nothing to muffle her sobs. "Violet…"

Oh God, what did _she_ have to do with this? "What? What about Violet?"

Nadia breathed deeply, trying to compose herself. " _All_ mutants develop the ShimmerFlame. What-What are we going to do?"

Ford couldn't help it. He pictured Violet - his sweet, innocent little girl - shrieking and clawing at herself like her mother had that day in the forest. Ice crept up his spine. "Does she know about this?"

Nadia shook her head, wiping away the few tears that escaped. "I...didn't want to scare her… She's s-so young..."

Ford's frown deepened. "I get what you're saying, dear, but look at it this way. What's worse: her being frightened but prepared when it happens, or her being confused and _terrified_ when it happens?"

Nadia sighed. "You're right. We should tell her."

"Right. But, first we should take care of you." He hopped off the bed and held out a hand for her.

Confused, she grabbed and allowed him to pull her up as well. "What are you doing?"

"Nadia, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then, you'll trust that I know what I'm doing."

 **GSVIV ZIV LMOB GDL KLDVIH TIVZGVI GSZM GSV HSRNNVIUOZNV.**

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 **READ THE CODE! It's important. But, what's more important is you reviewing!**


	18. Fireproof

**I think I've just broken my tradition of giving all the portal chapters a journal entry. Oh, well. I did it as often as I could.**

 **But, anyway, this chapter is super important! The next one will be too! And, the one after! I should really write a fun chapter just to give us all a break from the intensity!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen: Fireproof**

A cool breeze ruffled Nadia's hair, making her wish she'd brought a hair tie or rubber band or something. Although, she supposed that her biggest concern right now was what the heck they were doing in the forest. She'd tried asking, but Ford just told her to trust him. She did, but, he was really confusing her. She had told him the truth about her powers and how dangerous she was. Did he truly not mind? Or, was he faking it? He did seem a little on edge right now. What was he planning?

"Well, here we are," Ford said, stopping in front a cave.

Nadia tilted her head, trying to make sense of this. "I don't get it."

Ford smiled at her. "Last week, Tad and I heard about a group of Zubat that were living here. But, by the time we got here, they'd already migrated." He scowled and muttered, "Damn, our luck."

"So, why did you bring me here?"

"Just a little theory I have. You say not using your ShimmerFlame screws with your mind, for lack of a better term. Ever since the Zubat migration, this cave has been totally deserted. You can head on inside, use the ShimmerFlame, and be out with no harm done at all."

Nadia frowned. It was a good idea, except… "I told you, Ford. Using it will _still_ drive me mad."

Ford quickly turned away from her but not quick enough to hide his frown and sudden paleness. "Uh, I planned for that."

 _Liar._ He obviously hadn't thought this through. "Ford, I don't know about this."

"Just-Just do it. If my theory's correct, then you should be back to your old self. If it makes you feel better, I'll even stay out here and wait for you."

Nadia stared forebodingly into the darkness. She couldn't risk getting addicted, and he would be so close to the flames… She sighed. "This is a bad idea."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, his blue eyes both fierce and pleading as he said firmly. "I'm not losing you."

The intensity of his gaze was giving her goosebumps, and she knew that he wouldn't let this slide. So, she simply sighed and forced herself to head into the cave.

"I'll be here when you're done," Ford called.

Heart racing, Nadia walked deeper into the cave. Eventually, she was far enough in that the darkness would have been blinding without her "night vision," as Ford called it, and she stopped, shivering from more than the cold. She turned around. The light of the entrance was far enough that it looked about the size of her hand, so she prayed that it was far enough for her husband to be safe. And, that he wouldn't get curious and come in after her. She let out the breath she'd been holding and let warmth flow through her skin, slowly smiling as she felt the euphoria of the flames.

* * *

Ford knew that he shouldn't have been doing this, but the scientist in him couldn't resist. He walked into the cave as quietly as he could, not wanting Nadia to know what he was doing. _What she doesn't know won't hurt her,_ he reasoned. Besides, if the ShimmerFlame was as dangerous as he'd heard, he was doing the world a favor by learning more about it.

He stopped. There was a golden light up ahead, getting closer. He proceeded with caution, wary of getting burned. But, at the same time, he couldn't stop staring. The flares were beautiful, like a glittering sunset. And, in the middle of them… He walked a little closer. The flames were close, maybe too close, but he didn't care. He was far too transfixed.

Fire burned throughout the cave. And, in middle was Nadia. She was twirling, dancing, a look of utter bliss on her beautiful face. Her clothes were gone - burnt off, perhaps - leaving her dark, heavily scarred skin exposed to the inferno. She didn't seem to mind. She just danced among the flames. Her dark gray skin glowed silver in the golden light. Ford planted his hand over his heart, as though that would somehow stop it from beating its way out of his chest.

 _She's...beautiful…_

He froze. Nadia spotted him. But, she didn't appear to be upset about him following her. She skipped over to him, a dopey grin on her face. Ford backed away as the ShimmerFlame approached him, but…it didn't hurt him. The flames were touching his skin now, but they didn't hurt. Even his clothes seemed completely unharmed. Fascinating. Was she somehow controlling the flames in a way that protected him from injury? If so, why hadn't she done the same with her own clothes?

"Dance with me, Stanford," Nadia begged.

And, Ford shivered despite the heat radiating around him. Nadia's voice was...different somehow. More...wild? Desperate? Ford wasn't sure what to call it, but something was off. And, her eyes… The gentle violet eyes he adored were now dark with something that curdled his stomach. And, now that he was seeing her naked body up close, and smelled what he had assumed was simply smoke, he saw that she wasn't just glowing.

She was _burning_.

 _This was a_ terrible _idea!_

"Nadia…" Ford said shakily. "Nadia, I-I think you've got it out of your system. You-You can stop now."

"No!" Nadia snapped, stomping her foot like a child and sending another wave of heat swirling around them. "I'll never stop! _I love it_!"

Oh, God, he should have listened to her about the addiction! His entire being burned with adrenalin as his Protector instincts kicked in. "Nadia, _please_! Just listen to me! You have to stop this!" Parts of her skin glowed brighter, burned harder. "Good God, you're _killing_ yourself!"

Nadia laughed, a mad sound that made Ford's skin crawl. This was turning out worse than he could have imagined. Not knowing what else to do, he slapped her hard in the cheek, accidentally sending her stumbling into the cave wall, knocking her unconscious. As she collapsed to the hard ground, Ford stared at her in horror. He'd hit her. He'd hit his _wife_.

To his amazement, the flames shifted and moved in one direction. They appeared to be somehow _absorbed_ back into Nadia's body, and darkness returned. Interesting. Perhaps the fire somehow was able to determine if its creator was capable of control. Did it somehow _sense_ that its master was incapacitated?

Ford's musing was halted by Nadia groaning and groggily opening her eyes. Relief and guilt suddenly clashing in his heart, he knelt down beside her, lifted her gently, and cradled her naked body in his arms. (Under normal circumstances, he would have been enjoying this.) "Nadia?" he whispered, unaware of her current mental state and trying not to startle her. He wished he could see her better in the dark. Then, he could better determine her condition. "Darling, I-I'm sorry. This is my fault." Tears pooled in his eyes as the realization crashed into him. She'd come so close to death... And, it was because of his damned _theory_. "I shouldn't have pushed this. I-I shouldn't-" He felt something drip on to his arm, and he traced a wet trickle up to her temple. She was bleeding. A few tears slipped down his cheeks as he swallowed back his sob. "I'm so sorry, Love." But, apologies didn't change anything. He still brought her here. He still made her use the ShimmerFlame. He still _hit_ her. Oh, God, he'd been abusing his wife without even knowing it. _Some Protector, I am._

"Don't cry." He felt her reach up and wipe his wet cheeks. "I'm okay."

Was she really? It was too dark to tell, but at least she sounded better. A bit dazed, but better. "Can-Can you stand? You don't have concussion or anything, do you?" Stars above, if he'd given her a concussion…

"No, I-I think I'm okay." There was a faint white glow as she reached up and healed the injury on her head. Then, she did the same with her burns. She slowly stood up, Ford holding her, steadying her the entire time. He kept his hands around her waist even when she was upright. "What did I do?" She asked suddenly. A sob broke out of her throat. "Oh, dammit, what did I do?"

Ford really wished that he had night vision like her. Then, he would probably be able to see what else was injured, assuming that was the current problem. "What's wrong? Are you hurt anywhere else?" Did she remember what she'd been doing?

His question was answered, when she tearfully exclaimed, "I could have _killed_ you!" Then, there was amazement and confusion in her voice, as she cupped his cheeks in her hands. "You're not hurt. How? How can you not be hurt?"

Ford blinked in surprise. He had just assumed that she had been controlling the flames. What other explanation was there? Was it his powers? Did being a Protector have something to do with it? "Uh, let's wonder about that later. Here." He took off his trench coat and handed it to her. He would have draped it over her shoulders, but he couldn't see as well as she could right now. He forced a laugh, trying to keep himself from crying again. The guilt was eating away at him. "As much as I enjoy seeing you naked, you, uh, you should probably cover up."

Nadia wordlessly took the coat from him, and he heard the fabric ruffle as she put it on, even though it was probably huge on her small frame. He kept one hand around her waist as they walked silently out of the cave.

 **SRHGLIB IVKVZGH RGHVOU.**

* * *

 **You know? I've been really into Melanie Martinez lately, and one of her songs reminds me of the ShimmerFlame. And, of Guardian. The song is called _Milk and Cookies_ , and it is not as happy as it sounds.**

 **Speaking of Guardian, do you have any theories on who he is? If so, I'd like to hear them!**

 **The next chapter will be another glimpse into Ford's past. Review!**


	19. Red Flags

**Okay, this chapter is meant to give you a better understanding of what's going on in Ford's head in the previous chapter. Also, I had the idea and couldn't shake it. You know how that goes.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen: Red Flags**

 _Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey, 1972_

Maude Pines hissed as she pressed the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball to the cut on her wrist. The tears in her brown eyes weren't from the pain but from the memory of how she got the cut.

She had been cutting an apple for a snack, and her husband, Filbrick, had confronted her about talking to their son, Stanley, on the phone. One week ago, without so much as a warning, Filbrick had thrown Stan out of the house, saying that he couldn't come back until he'd "made the family a fortune." Maude had been furious. Filbrick had always been rather strict with the boys, but he had never been so cruel to them. The two of them had started arguing over the matter, Maude (once again) begging Filbrick to let Stan come home, but her husband was furious at the suggestion. He had smacked at her hand, sending the knife slicing into her skin, and simply walked out of the kitchen, no sign of remorse or apology.

Maude choked back a sob at the memory. What was happening? Filbrick had been a stern man as long as she'd known him, but he'd never been so... _awful_.

"Ma?" She turned her head and, to her horror, saw her other son, Stanford, standing in the bathroom doorway, looking at her with concern. "What's the matter?"

What time was it? Had school already let out? How long had she been standing there, crying? Not wanting to worry her son (especially just after his last day of high school), she forced a smile. "I-I'm fine, sweetie. Mama just had a little accident, is all." Ordinarily, she was an excellent liar, but she was already caught crying. Really, she didn't even know why she bothered trying to pretend she was alright.

So, naturally, Ford saw right through her. "Then-Then, why are you crying?" His gaze traveled lower, and Maude inwardly flinched at the look on his face. "And, what did _that_?" He demanded pointing to her wrist.

Maude realized what this must have looked like. "Really, sweetie, I'm okay. I was just cutting up an apple, and the knife slipped. Accidents happen."

Ford didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Alright. Well...be more careful. I guess."

"I will, baby," she assured just before kissing her son's cheek, seeing a small smile pull at his lips. "Now, why don't I patch myself up, and you tell me about your last day?"

"Well, it was quite a last day. 'Couple of jocks decided to pull a senior prank and let a bunch of birds and rodents loose in the school." He chuckled. "Scared the heck out of the cheerleaders."

* * *

The next day, Filbrick still hadn't apologized for cutting her. She reasoned that perhaps he simply hadn't noticed the injury. Yes, that made sense. Why else would he have stormed off like he did?

Then, he'd spotted the bandage on her wrist and simply said, "Maybe that'll teach you not to argue with me."

Maude was floored. What was happening to her husband? Sure, he'd always had a bit of a temperament, but to _purposely_ hurt her?

Another argument broke out. It ended rather abruptly, when Filbrick slapped her in the cheek hard enough to knock to the ground.

"Remember your place, Maude," Filbrick said too calmly. "I may love you, and we may be married, but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you please. Stanley's not what he seems. The last thing I need is you getting yourself killed."

Maude just stared up at him in shock. What happened to the man she loved? Why was he being so cruel to her? And, what did Stanley have to do with anything? How was their son "not what he seemed?"

"Close your mouth, boy," she heard Flibrick say before heading upstairs.

 _Boy?_ Why did he say… Oh, no.

Ford raced to his shell-shocked mother's side and helped her to feet. "What in the- What _was_ that?" Maude shushed him. They didn't need Filbrick to hear any of this. Ford looked somewhere between horrified and pissed off. He pointed in the direction his father went. "He. Should _not_. Be hitting you!" he hissed.

Were his eyes glowing? Maude immediately dismissed the thought. Eyes didn't glow; it was probably a trick of the light. "Baby, it's-it's nothing-"

"' _Nothing_!?' How can you say- Wait. That cut. That wasn't an accident, was it? Pa did that too, didn't he?"

"Your Pa's just a bit mad is all." God, she hated lying to her own flesh and blood.

But, it didn't matter, because he obviously didn't believe her. And, after what he'd just seen, why would he? He narrowed his blue eyes - his father's eyes - and said firmly, "No. Don't lie to me about this, Ma. If he's hurting you…" His voice cracked on the last syllable, and so did Maude's heart. Ford groaned and pulled his six-fingered hands through his hair. "I just- I love you, Ma. If Pa's hurting you, then we should get help. You know, call the cops or something. Isn't that what abused spouses do?"

Maude didn't know what to say. Choking back tears, she said, "We don't need the police, Ford. You know how your Pa is. He's just blowing off steam." Ford still looked suspicious. "Don't worry about me, hun. Things will be back to normal in no time at all."

Ford stared at her so intensely that he gave his mother goosebumps. Then, he nodded, looking a bit too much like his father. "Okay. I trust you. But, if he hurts you again, I'm hurting _him_ three times as hard."

Maude smiled and rolled her eyes. Inside, she was petrified. She couldn't bare to tell her son the truth: that this had been going on for months.

* * *

Backupsmore University wasn't exactly Ford's _first_ choice for college. In fact, he hadn't even considered it until he's seen his father hit his mother. His chances at West Coast Tech had been ruined, and he had been looking at a few other colleges. But, Backupsmore was the closest to his house, and he didn't feel comfortable being farther from his mother than he needed to. What if Pa did something to her? Who would she turn to if Ford wasn't nearby?

Ford sighed as he unpacked his bags in his dorm room. It wasn't a great college, but it wasn't the worst one out there (probably). He'd have to work twice as hard to make anything of himself here. But, it was worth it to protect his mother. Did that make him a momma's boy? Given the circumstances, he didn't think so.

He heard the door open. A startled Southern accent said, "Oh! Uh, hello."

Ford turned around. The man standing in the doorway looked to be about his age and had a mop of pale brown curls and glasses and was at least a head shorter than Ford. The man blinked his light blue eyes and glanced at the number on the door, as though wondering if he was in the right room. He was obviously very nervous.

Ford offered a kind smile. "Am I right to assume that I have a roommate?" The other student swallowed hard and nodded. Softening, Ford walked up to him and held out his hand, briefly forgetting about his extra fingers. "Stanford Pines, but call me Ford."

The student hesitantly shook his hand. "Uh, I'm Fiddleford McGucket." Fiddleford took a closer look at Ford's hand, and Ford jerked it back and held both hands behind his back, a blush creeping across his face. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to stare. I've just never seen polydactyly before." Fiddleford smiled shyly. "It's actually kind of neat."

"Neat?" Ford's birth defect had been called a lot of things over the years, but that was a new one. "Well, uh, thank you."

Fiddled rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Heh. Yeah."

Ford frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It's just-" Fiddleford's face reddened. "It's kind of embarrassing, but, uh… You're… Well, you're an awful lot bigger than me. Not fat, but muscular. Back home, guys your size would attack me like a bull to a chicken, know what I'm saying?"

No, he really didn't. "Um, I guess?"

Fiddleford laughed. "What I mean is, I'm so gosh darn scrawny that bigger folks like to rough me up."

"If that's the case, then try growing up in New Jersey with six fingers on each hand." Ford smirked". And, don't even ask me why I never wear sandals."

They both got a laugh out of that, and Ford decided that maybe this school wouldn't be so bad.

 **Z HGFYYLIM, GLFTS MVD QVIHVB MZGREV.**

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 **I think I'm gonna do a part two to this, but I'm not sure if I'll post it next or hold off. I guess I'll play it by year. Review!**


	20. Revelation

**Starts somber, ends slightly less somber. This is a kind of a filler, but you should still read it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen: Revelation**

"Ford, this isn't necessary," Nadia argued. "I'm fine."

But, Ford wouldn't have it. He had a theory that up brought far too many old memories, and he desperately wanted to prove himself wrong. "Just humor me, okay? Take off my coat for just second so that-"

"I'm wearing _nothing_ under this!" Her face was red enough to prove it.

"Nadia," he raised his arms in a gesture to the empty woods around them, "there is literally no one here but you and me. And, I've seen your body millions of times."

Shaking her head, almost looking ashamed, Nadia pulled the coat tighter around herself and started to walk away. "Let's just go home."

Ford grabbed her arm, terrified by the idea that she was trying to hide something like this from him. "Please. Just...Just for a moment."

Frowning deeply, Nadia closed her eyes and peeled back the coat.

Ford realized in horror that his theory was correct. Nadia's body had always been heavily scarred. But...there were now several _new_ scars. Caused by burns.

Heart heavy and sinking fast, Ford groaned and leaned against a tree. "This is my fault."

"No, it's not," Nadia assured, wrapping the coat back around her.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm the one who ignored your warnings and made you use the ShimmerFlame." Hating himself, he muttered, "I'm no better than Pa."

But, apparently he hadn't said that last part quietly enough, because Nadia asked, "What do you mean, 'No better than Pa?'"

Ford ran a hand through his hair and debated telling her about his father. He probably shouldn't. She had suffered enough in her life. What if she realized that he was becoming like that? On the other hand, her own father had been abusive, so maybe she would be understanding.

Taking a chance, Ford said somberly, "Well, um… My dad was always… a rather strict man. Tough as nails, not easily impressed. But, overall, he wasn't too bad. Then, he… I-I don't know when this started, but… I saw him hit my mother one day. I started college not long after that, but I know things only got worse for Ma."

Nadia smiled sadly and cupped his cheek in her hand, forcing him to meet her kind eyes. "I know what you're thinking, Stanford, but you're not like that. What happened in that cave wasn't your fault. And, yeah, you hit me pretty hard, but what choice did you have? If you hadn't knocked me out when you did…" She shivered. "God, I don't want to know…"

* * *

Certain that he visible only to others currently in the MindScape, he watched the young mutant as she pushed her banshee-friend on the swings in the school playground. He wondered when it would happen, when she would develop the ShimmerFlame. She had already received her first power earlier than expected. He _had_ to be there when the ShimmerFlame reared its ugly head.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that spying on little girls is considered creepy?"

He rolled his eyes. "This is none of your business, Starclops."

Starclops, also in the MindScape, rose up just enough to rest her elbow on her friend's top-corner. "Tad, anything involving promiscuity is my business."

"I'm not promiscuous."

"You're gay, aren't you?"

"That doesn't make me- Ugh. Why do I even bother?"

They floated in silence for a while, watching as Violet and Cleo switched positions, the latter now pushing the former on the swing.

The silence was broken when Starclops said, "Why don't you just tell Violet about the ShimmerFlame? I mean, she's probably gonna get it soon enough. It's best if she knows about it."

Tad inwardly flinched. Visions of burning buildings and creatures crumbling to ash filled his mind. After all these years, The Big Fire still rattled him. "If you feel that way, why don't you tell her?"

Starclops shrugged. "I'm not the mutant here. It's either you or Nadia, man. And, considering that Nadia hasn't even told _Ford_ about the ShimmerFlame…"

"I'm going to tell her, Star." Someone had to. Even if that someone wanted to curl up and die when he thought about how many deaths he'd caused. "I just wanna wait until Ford and Nadia get back so I can confirm it with them."

"Fair enough." Starclops loudly cracked her knuckles. "Now, why don't you stop staring at Violet for a while. I know a girl who's got the hots for you. I think you should stare at _her_ for a while."

Tad furrowed his brow. "Gay. I am gay."

"No. You're bi. You just prefer men over women."

"You keep telling yourself that. It's not gonna make me any more straight."

Starclops grabbed his elbow. "Just give her a chance." Without waiting for a response, she dragged him away from the school, unaware of what was about to occur.

 **GZW IVZOOB RH YR. SV QFHG KIVUVIH NVM LEVI DLNVM.**

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 **Anything surprise you in this chapter? 'Cause something major's coming up in the next! Review!**


	21. A Fairly Odd Crossover

**To my fellow _Fairly OddParents_ fans: you're gonna love this. Even if you hate Foop. I personally love him, but I know a lot of people don't. Also, why haven't we heard from Foop's parents in years? I miss them!**

 **Expect FOP-style humor alongside the normal humor I put in this fic. I've named the FOP universe "Dimension 110" because it's the birthday of Butch Hartman, the creator of FOP.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty: A Fairly Odd Crossover**

 _Dimension 110_

Lightning crashed against a blood-red sky. Huge bats, snakes with glowing eyes, spiders the size of great danes, and various other beasts roamed the landscape. In the heart of the world that sat on an enormous gray stormcloud, sat a dark castle surrounded by a dark red moat. It seemed that the most cheerful thing about the building was the sign that hung above the door.

 _Anti-Cosmo's Castle_

 _Welcome - Not!_

Within the castle, a blue-skinned man was in his living room, his black bat-like wings keeping him afloat as he gazed thoughtfully out his window. This man was the aforementioned Anti-Cosmo Anti-Cosma, ruler of Anti-Fairy World. (Guess what species lived there.)

The faintest sucking-sounds alerted his pointed ears, and he turned to see his son drinking from his magic baby bottle. Anti-Fairy infants stayed a distinct shape until they grew their humanoid bodies at the age of five. Anti-Poof "Foop" Anti-Cosma was a cube with arms and legs. He took his bottle out of his mouth and asked, "Whatcha looking at, Father?" before popping the nipple back in and drinking more of his milk.

"Foop," Anti-Cosmo began, his British accent as thick as ever, "have you ever heard of an interdimensional rift?"

Foop removed the bottle from his mouth. He also had a British accent but not nearly as thick as his father's. "Hold that thought. Burp me." Anti-Cosmo rolled his lime-green eyes and, with a small smile, wrapped arms his son and patted his back. The infant let out a huge belch before pulling away. "Now, to answer your question, Father, I _have_ heard of rifts. They appear randomly throughout the multiverse, sucking things in and sending them off to whatever dimension the rift is connected to."

Proud of his only child's knowledge, Anti-Cosmo smiled wider. "Correct." He held a four-fingered hand out towards the window. "Gaze outside, son."

Violet eyes sparkling with child-like curiosity, Foop flew up to the window and looked around. "What am I looking at? I don't see anything- Sweet home Alabama!" He grinned and pressed his square face against the glass. "I see a swirly thing! What is it? Is it some sort of helpless creature? If so, can I kill it with fire?"

Anti-Cosmo laughed. Oh, what he wouldn't give to once again have the innocence of a child. He looked down at the rift, its imperfect circle spiralling in the very center of his herb garden. "The 'swirly thing,' my boy, is not a living creature, but a rift."

Foop's eyes widen with wonder as he removed his face from the glass to gaze up at his father. "A rift? A real rift? I've never seen one before! Of course, I'm only nine months old, so there's probably a lot I haven't seen. Can I touch it? I'm gonna touch it."

"Oh, no," Anti-Cosmo chided, grabbing Foop by the ear and stopping him from flying off to touch it. "If you get too close, then you'll end up in another dimension. And, how the heck would you get home from there?"

Foop rolled his eyes. "I'd either go back through the rift or poof myself home. _Duh_."

"No, you wouldn't. Rifts close the moment something goes through them. And, your magic isn't nearly developed enough to take you to and from another world." Foop scowled. "I'm sorry, son, but it is far too dangerous. You will _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, go near that rift. Have I made myself clear?"

Foop crossed his arms in defeat and grudgingly said, "Yes, Father."

Anti-Cosmo nodded. He didn't want to ruin his son's thirst for knowledge, but Anti-Cosmo knew from experience that interdimensional rifts were _extremely_ unpredictable. The last thing he wanted was his only child ending up in a world of things that would give even an anti-fairy nightmares. "Very good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend." With that, he raised his wand. Its black, star-shaped top glowed and _poofed_ him away.

Foop looked back outside and glanced down at the rift. Yeah, he was definitely going to touch it.

* * *

 _Dimension 52_

Violet had listened intently when her parents had told her about the ShimmerFlame. Her mother had tried to sugarcoat everything (as usual), but her father was rather blunt about the facts (as usual). The seven-year-old had played it off like she wasn't scared, but as soon as she was alone in her room, she stood in front of a wall, stared at it, and rethought _everything_.

At her age, she had assumed that the most dangerous thing in her life was whatever her father was currently studying. She'd never imagined that _she_ would be the most dangerous thing in her life (as cliche as that sounds). If the ShimmerFlame was as scary as it sounded… Well, her mother and Tad said that they would help her, but that didn't mean she wasn't terrified at the prospect. What if she hurt someone? What if she went bonkers and couldn't stop?

A scream from outside jolted her back to reality. Something knocked her face-first into the pile of clothes she still hadn't put away. Violet tried flip herself over but only managed to get herself even more tangled. Her large eyes peered up and found the most likely attacker, who must have flown in from her open window.

The creature was smaller than she was. It looked like a floating blue cube with arms and legs. It black wings beat frantically as its scared purple eyes flitted around her bedroom.

"Okay, okay, Foop." Its deep voice made her assume it was a boy, though she still wasn't sure what species it was. "You're in another dimension, and you can't poof yourself home. Man, I hate when my dad's right. Which is often!" He took in a deep breath. "Okay. I need to calm down. Or, take out my frustration on some random stranger. Whichever comes first." He spotted Violet, who had finally untangled herself. A wicked grin spread over his mouth, showcasing sharp canine teeth. Feigning nonchalance, Violet walked slowly to her door, only to jump back in shock when the creature appeared in a puff of gray smoke in front of the door. "Hey, stranger," he greeted _way_ too casually.

Violet stepped back, wishing that she had developed a power that would actually help her right now. "Who-Who are you?"

"My friends call me Foop. But, I have no friends… So, call me Foop." He held up the baby bottle he'd been holding. "And, this is my magic ba-ba. It can do bad things to you." Before her eyes, the bottle turned into a mallet, which he raised high. "Like this!"

Just as he was about to hit her, the door flew open, slamming Foop into the wall with a startled yelp. Violet's father looked around the room.

"Thought I heard someone else in here," Ford explained.

He started when he heard a muffled, "Get this door _off of me_!"

Ford closed the door and raised an eyebrow at dazed creature behind it. He'd never seen a being like it before. Were it not for the bat-like wings and blue skin tone, he would have mistaken it for a fairy baby. Assuming it _was_ a baby, despite its black goatee.

Violet pointed at it accusingly. "He tried to whack me!"

The creature narrowed its large eyes. "Well, well, well. It seems I'm not the only serial tattler in this dimension."

"Who are you?" Ford asked, deciding to ignore the comment.

The probably-baby rolled its eyes, as if the answer should have been obvious. "I am the bad boy of the bassinets. The dark harbinger of the doom time. The next of kin to an evil overlord. The son of a woman who may or may not be inbred. I'm not sure-"

"He told me his name's Foop," Violet interrupted.

"Hey!" Foop whined. "I haven't finished my introduction!"

Starclops swung the door open, and Foop once again was thrown into the wall. "Hey, guys! I just saw a dead rat floating in a bucket!" Foop groaned, and Starclops closed the door. "Whoops! Sorry, man. You alright?"

Foop looked on the very edge of consciousness. "Ugh. A-Am I dead? It's difficult to tell, since I'm already blue. Passing out now." He promptly fell to the floor.

 **ZMGR-UZRIRVH LMOB SZEV IVW LI KRMP VBVH.**

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 **This crossover is going somewhere. I apologize if you didn't catch the FOP references. There'll probably be more of them, but you don't have to catch them to figure out what's going on. Review!**


	22. Be Careful What You Wish For

**In my headcanon, Foop cares about his parents and really looks up to them, especially his dad. I don't think this qualifies as OOC, since Foop hasn't been seen with his parents since he was born...roughly seven years ago...**

 **WHERE ARE HIS PARENTS!? BRING THEM BACK ON THE SHOW! ANTI-COSMO IS THE BEST VILLAIN AND SHOULD GET HIS OWN SPIN-OFF OR SOMETHING! WHY AM I VENTING IN ALL CAPS?**

 **Not that any of that matters to those of you who are reading this but aren't fans of _The Fairly OddParents_.**

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 **Chapter Twenty-One: Be Careful What You Wish For...**

 _Argh_! His head! It felt like a million sprites were floating around in there. This wasn't suppose to happen after naptime! Naptime was suppose to make him refreshed and raring to spread chaos throughout the universe. Now, he was all achy, as if someone had him slammed into a wall. Twice!

Oh, wait.

Foop groaned, refusing to open his eyes and deal with the fact that he was trapped in some random dimension with no hope of getting home. Home… The word wedged itself into his dark heart. (At least, he assumed he had a heart. He didn't know a lot about biology, but he knew that flesh-creatures, like himself, generally had hearts keeping them alive.) Would he ever get to go back home? Back to Anti-Fairy World? Back to his family's castle, with its dismal atmosphere and its inexplicable yet constant aroma of incense? He loathed to admit it, but he already missed the smell of his mother's cooking, or when she would force him to help her in the kitchen. He'd complain the whole time, but they both knew that he secretly liked it. Then, there was the sound of his father working on his inventions while blasting music on the stereo, even letting Foop help him work or at least pick out the CD. How he'd gotten his father to start liking Melanie Martinez as much as Foop did was anyone's guess.

Just before Foop could start crying and or punching something, he heard voices.

The first one was really deep. A male grown-up, no doubt. "Does anyone even know what this kid is, exactly?"

The next also sounded male, but it wasn't quite as deep. "That's an anti-fairy. In a nutshell, they're the evil counterparts of fairies."

A feminine laugh came next. "He kinda looks like you, Stranger."

"I don't care what he is." This voice, he recognized as the girl he had been trying take out his frustration on. "If he tries to hit me again, I'm gonna hit him back twice as hard."

Suddenly, a hand was gently stroking his head, kind of like his mother would sometimes do, but with a comforting warmth that felt similar to healing magic. Foop finally opened his eyes, and a gentle voice told him the obvious. "Oh! You're awake."

Head no longer pounding, Foop carefully sat up (which wasn't easy, considering his shape) and surveyed his surroundings. Yep, he was still in the same bedroom, which he assumed belonged to that bug-eyed girl. Speaking of which, said child (probably seven, eight years old) was hiding behind a human's leg and glaring suspiciously at him. The human either didn't know she was there or was simply ignoring her. His eyes were turned down to some book he was holding, his six fingers wrapped around a pen (Six? Did Foop count that right?) as he jotted something down. Foop then spotted two floating shapes. One was a dark orange star with one eye, and the other was a...blue square with two eyes… Slightly disturbed, Foop decided to momentarily ignore the similarities between himself and the creature. Foop finally spotted the woman seated on the edge of the bed he was sitting on. She could have easily passed as human, if her skin wasn't gray. Based on her close proximity to him, he figured that she was the one who'd been stroking him.

Wait… Foreign dimension. Trapped in a room with strangers. Oh, _crap_!

Foop flew up from the bed and prayed that he looked more threatening than he felt. "Get away from me, you foul beasts! Do so, or I'll give you all terrible ouchies!" He blinked and mentally smacked himself. "Hm. That sounded more threatening in my head, but you get the idea!"

The star laughed. "You got spunk, kid! Yet, you look like Tad. I think I'm gonna call you Tad Jr."

The square - who Foop assumed was named Tad - rolled its (his?) eyes. "Please don't name him after me."

"I _have_ a name," Foop scoffed. "It's Anti-Poof! But, call me Foop. Everyone does." While his nickname was ridiculous, at least it had a better ring to it than Anti-Poof. "Now, if you morons will excuse me, I have to find a way back to my own dimension."

At last, the human (probably human?) looked up from his weird book. "Excuse me? You mean, you're from _another_ dimension?"

Foop smiled ironically. "Congratulations! You can hear!" He scowled. "Now, I'm going to find a way home, drink a bottle of warm milk, and forget I ever saw any of you." He searched the room and started to internally panic as he realized… "Um, where is my magic ba-ba?"

"Your what?" the gray lady asked.

"You know, my ba-ba? My bottle? It has bat wings protruding from its sides? What, are you stupid or something?"

The star snapped its (her?) tiny black fingers. "Oh, you mean that thing that looked like a dick that I snoodled while you were unconscious?"

The adults - and the square, who was probably an adult - looked the star in both disgust and horror, but the kids were just confused.

"The what that you what?" Bug Eyes asked.

"Someone make her use real words!" Foop demanded. "I don't know what she's saying!"

Tad regained his composure first. "Translation: She broke it, and you're not gonna want it back."

Star laughed. "Yeah, it's totally broken. _Beyond_ repair." Foop's blue face turned an angry purple. "Seriously, if that's a dick in your world, then I feel sorry for the girls who have to suck on it."

"Children in the room," Gray Lady chided.

"What?" Star shrugged. "These kids have to learn this stuff eventually-"

"Oh, you _imbecile_!" Foop snarled, flying to the star, who flew back a little in surprise. "Do you have _any_ idea what you have done!? That bottle was the source of my power! Not to mention the source of my milky! I get very, very _cranky_ when I'm low on power and milky!"

Six Fingers cleared his throat, and Foop turned around to glare at him. The probably-human met his fury with a calm blue gaze and adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "I hate to change the subject - not really - but did I hear right that you said you need to 'find your way' back to your world?"

Something about the man's tone made Foop relax a little. _Just_ a little. "Well, unless you can tell me how to open up a swirly-thing that leads me back to my own realm, then, yes, I do have yet to find my way."

As he continued to scribble away in his dorky little book, Six Fingers ignored his sarcasm and asked, "So, if I'm reading this correctly, you did _not_ come here of your own accord." Foop stared blankly at him, and he glanced up. "You didn't choose to come to this world."

"Of course I didn't! Do you think I'd want to go back if I did?" Seriously, was everyone in this dimension stupid?

"Oh, honey." Gray Lady's sympathetic eyes met his frustrated ones as she stood up. This was the first time that Foop noticed that the two of them had the same eye color. She turned to the other creatures. "Guys, we have to help him."

Star shrugged. "I kinda like the kid. Why don't we let him join our mismatched little family?" Um, no. Foop glared daggers at the being who, if Tad was to be trusted, _ruined_ the source of his magic. "What?" She gestured to Six Fingers. "It worked out fine for Ford. He got a wife and a daughter out of it."

"That may be true," the human - Ford - agreed, "but I agree with Nadia. I was a grown man when I was forced from 46'\," Foop had no idea what that meant, "and that was traumatizing enough. Foop, however, is- I don't know. Five? Six?"

Despite himself, Foop puffed out his square chest, proud that he was mistaken for being older than he really was. He _did_ have a superior vocabulary and mannerisms, didn't he? "Actually, I'm only nine months old."

"Exactly, so- _Nine months_?" Ford's eyes widened so much that he looked hilariously similar to an owl. Foop bit his tongue to keep from laughing. These creatures were looking less and less threatening by the minute. "You're nine months old and already speaking coherently and traveling through temporal distortions? Is that typical of anti-fae infants? Being opposites, is it possible that the children of ordinary fae age at a normal rate, whereas their doppelgangers are more developed at birth- Hey, are you okay?"

Damn it all! Foop didn't even realize he was tearing up until Ford asked him that. The stupid smarty-pants was ranting like Foop's father always did when excited about a new evil plan, and the memory made Foop's fudged up baby brain want him to cry! Well, he wasn't going to give his emotions _that_ satisfaction! Hell, no! Foop quickly wiped his eyes and tried to regain some semblance of his bravado. "Stop acting like my daddy!" Well, that didn't work. "Stop it, or I shall hurl you into a vat of acid and laugh as you writhe in agony and dissolve into the worthless nothingness that you are!" Now, _that_ was more like it.

But, apparently, it wasn't working. Bug Eyes stepped out from behind Ford and told him, "You're not really as psycho as you want us to think, are you? I think you're just scared."

It didn't seem like she meant it to be an insult, but he was still offended. " _Excuse me_? I bear the intelligence of the great Anti-Cosmo and the recklessness of his unintelligent yet darkly magnificent bride, Anti-Wanda! I fear _nothing_!"

At long last, Ford closed his book with a sigh. "Guys, could leave us alone for a bit? I'd like a bit of one-on-one time with this kid."

"As long as I don't have to hear you go off on another of your infamous rants," Star said as she _poofed_ away. Well, not really a _poof_. But, it wasn't really a _ping_ like a pixie or a _gong_ like a genie. Foop wasn't sure what to call it, but it was some form of teleportation.

Tad pinched the space between his eyes and told Foop, "I apologize for...her…"

"Her what?" Foop asked.

Tad sighed. "That's it. Just-Just her." And, he disappeared too.

"I don't know about this," Bug Eyes commented to Ford. "I don't know if he's just venting or something, but he seems a _little_ unstable."

"Damn, right, I am!" Foop exclaimed proudly.

Bug Eyes gestured to him with both fingerless hands. "You see that? That's what I'm talking about. It's like putting Starclops in Tad's body." Starclops? Was that name of the star-shaped lady? If so, he could see why she was called that. "Except, hopefully, without the perversion and random bouts of euphoria. Although, I guess the euphoria isn't that bad. I mean, it's nice to see her happy, but you know how she gets-"

"Violet," Ford cut her off with a tender smile, bending down her level. "Violet, honey, I promise you, I'll be just fine. Now, why don't you entertain the rest of your crazy family for the time being."

Bug Eyes- Er, Violet nodded her head, but didn't seem entirely satisfied. "Okay, but if he hurts you, don't hesitate to call for help."

Ford chuckled and ruffled her brown curls. "My dear, you'll be the first person I call if I need any backup."

Violet, pacified by the grown-up's (most likely her father's) response, walked to the door, calling over her shoulder, "C'mon, Ma."

Gray Lady, most likely Violet's mother, glanced at him sadly, and Foop crossed his arms and scowled. He didn't need or want her _pity_. She only made him more annoyed when she said, "We just want to help you, sweetie. You don't have to be afraid of us."

" _I fear nothing_!" Foop wasn't yelling. He was simply reiterating loudly. "And, only my mother can get away with calling me sweetie! Anyone else will long for their own demises when I'm through with them!"

Well, at least Gray Lady seemed shocked. That was something.

Ford turned her around and looked at her like Foop's parents would often look at each other. That look that always managed to gross him out. "Don't worry, Nadia. I've got this."

Nadia shook her head with a fond smile. "That's _why_ I'm worried."

Ford kissed her forehead - Why were grown-ups so _gross_? - he gently ushered her over to where her (their?) daughter was waiting by the door. "Try to keep Starclops at bay."

"No promises. You know how she is," Nadia said as she and Violet left them alone.

Foop wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Do your worst, Four Eyes. I'm not easily broken."

Ford sighed. "Foop, was it? I know what you're going through."

"Ha!" Foop laughed. "How could you possibly know what's going on in my mind?"

"Well, you see, son, about um… Uh, like seventeen…? Roughly seventeen years ago - give or take - I had created a portal, a device that could open a gateway to another world."

Okay, now Foop was interested. "Like one of those rift-things?"

"Exactly." Ford cleared his throat and suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. Touchy subject, no doubt. "Now, uh, through a series of events I'd rather not discuss with a total stranger, I ended up being sucked into my own portal and forced from my dimension." Foop blinked in surprise. Perhaps this grown-up _could_ relate to him. "I know you're scared, because I - a man in his thirties at the time - was terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought."

"This dimension of yours, Ford," he asked out of curiosity and _not_ because his hard disposition was softening, "Do you ever want to return to it?"

Ford sighed. "It was the only thing I could think about at first." He smiled tenderly. "But, if I'm totally honest, I don't even consider it, these days. There was never really anything for me there. Fact is, I'm happier with my new interdimensional family than I ever was in my birth-dimension."

Hm. Foop certainly hadn't expected that response. He couldn't imagine anyone sane actually _enjoying_ being forced from their home. Then again, hadn't he just witnessed the care this man held for the one who were apparently his wife and daughter? "Was there _really_ nothing for you in your home-world?"

Ford chuckled ironically. "Yeah, I'd say so. I shut everyone out, my only real friends went insane one way or another, and even I, myself, was quickly losing my mind." Foop shuddered. He loved his advanced mind so much that he didn't even want to think about losing it. "No, I'm better off here with the people I love." Ford frowned at him. "But, you? Forgive me if this offends you in any way, but you're far too young. A boy your age should be with his parents. Not stuck in some random dimension that he knows nothing about. We can help you, Foop. But, only if you'll let us."

...Wow. This human - this powerless, inferior creature - actually _understood_ him. Throughout his nine months of existence, he had believed that all humans were simply sacks of flesh that were dumber than fairy dust and half as useful. And yet, this one wasn't like that. This one was observant, calm in a bad situation, and clearly intelligent.

 _Just like my father…_

And, there went his fudging emotions again. Mother of Hades, he hated those things! Now, his eyes were all watery and his lip was all quivery and he just wanted to _poof_ somewhere that no one - not even this human - could see him breakdown. But, Ford seemed to take this reaction in stride. His face softened, and he tentatively reached out an arm and gently rubbed Foop's back. The look on his face seemed to be asking if asking if this was okay.

 _Great. Now, he's acting like Mother._

That did it. That was the end of his composure. Foop flew to Ford's chest, gripped his sweater, and sobbed into it. Ford responded by wrapping his hands (Foop was pretty small, compared to him) tightly around him and let him cry.

 **UVZI GSV YVZHG DRGS QFHG LMV VBV.**

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 **Some of you may think that last part was OOC. Personally, I think it's justified, given the circumstances. Foop's just a baby, after all, and getting stuck in another dimension would freak anyone out. Review!**


	23. For There is Always a Catch

**Now, let's see what happens when Foop's parents realize he's missing.**

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 **Chapter Twenty-Two: ...For There is Always a Catch**

 _Dimension 110_

Anti-Cosmo had searched high and low throughout the castle, grateful that his wife wasn't home yet. The woman would have _literally_ turned the place upside-down searching for their son. Foop was always running off, doing some mischievous prank or evil deed, but he _never_ left without telling his parents. Or, at the very least, leaving a note.

But, there was no note to be found. And, if Foop had told his mother, she certainly hadn't let Anti-Cosmo know. Although, given that she still thought that mini golf was controlled by tiny golfball-creatures, that shouldn't have surprised him. Anti-Cosmo let the thought comfort him for the time being. He loved Anti-Wanda dearly, but the woman wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the weapons vault and was quite easily distracted. Yes, she probably just forgot.

Still that didn't stop Anti-Cosmo from scrambling around the castle for the third time in a row, trying and failing to find any sign of his only child's whereabouts. For the Axolotl's sake, this was worse than when Foop was trapped in that "maximum security timeout" in Abracatraz. At least then Anti-Cosmo knew where the boy was. Now? Why, for all he knew, the child could have been kidnapped by the head fairy, Jorgen Von Strangle (whose last name was far more than coincidence). Or, was being hunted down - or worse - by that she-beast, Mary Alice Doombringer.

Or, perhaps…

Groaning and resting his head on the living room wall, Anti-Cosmo tried to push the thought out of his mind. That man wouldn't have kidnapped Foop. Foop wasn't old enough. Although, the boy was rather advanced for his age… Not to mention rebellious…

 _Tap, tap, tap_.

Anti-Cosmo lifted his head at the sound. He turned in direction of the tapping, suddenly reminded of Edgar Allen Poe's _The Raven_ , one of his favorite poems.

Except that this was definitely not a raven.

Curious, Anti-Cosmo flew over to the window and opened it. He leaned an elbow on the window sill and raised an eyebrow at the cloaked man before him. "Is this the part where I say, 'Wherefore art thou, Romeo?'"

Anti-Cosmo imagined him rolling his eyes behind his dark shades. "Very funny."

"I try." Anti-Cosmo glanced down at his watch. Anti-Wanda would be home soon, and there was still no sign of Foop. "Please, make this quick, Guardian. I'm rather busy at the moment."

"Looking for your son?"

Anti-Cosmo blinked and adjusted his monocle. So, the man _did_ know something. But, Anti-Cosmo wouldn't throttle him. Not until he knew _for sure_ that Guardian took Foop. "That depends. Would you happen to know something about the boy that I am not already aware of?"

"I have my sources. Anti-Poof is in another world."

Instead of hurling nonstop questions and death threats like he wanted to, Anti-Cosmo scoffed, glad that he was a such a great actor and liar. "Oh, really? Pray tell, old chum, why should I believe you?"

Guardian reached a hand into his coat. "I think _this_ will convince you."

Not like where this was going, Anti-Cosmo pulled his wand out from inside his blue blazer. He held the wand with two fingers, allowing it the faintest blue glow. "If you're going to try pull a gun on me again, I should warn you that this time I am armed with my magic. Among _other_ things…" The aroma of smoke filled the air.

"Relax, Anti-Cosmo. It's not a gun. Well, not the kind you're thinking of." The object Guardian pulled out was a baby bottle. A rather broken one at that. It was horribly dented and cracked, one of its bat wings was missing, and its nipple was...mutilated, for lack of a better word.

Anti-Cosmo dropped his wand. His shaking hands grabbed the bottle and held it protectively. "What did you do?" he asked darkly, fear quickly replaced by absolute fury.

Guardian was unaffected by the anti-fairy's rage. "All I did was send someone to spy on someone else. Finding your son was nothing more than a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences."

"Believe what you want, but I didn't have anything to do with Anti-Poof's disappearance."

Gripping the bottle tighter, Anti-Cosmo remembered Foop's fascination with the interdimensional rift. _I never should have shown him that accursed thing._ Anti-Cosmo frowned suspiciously. There was always a catch with this guy. It was like making a deal with a devil or demon. Though, one might argue that this man could be either species. Anti-Cosmo never found out who or what the fellow was, and frankly he didn't care enough to try. "You want something from me."

Guardian smirked. "You've always been a smart man, Anti-Cosmo. It's one of the reasons I recruited you." Anti-Cosmo scowled. That was in the past, when he was unaware of this Batman-wannabe's true intentions. "Anyway, you know a lot about demons, if I recall. Correct?"

Anti-Cosmo hummed in interest. "I've done some research, yes."

"Are you familiar with the entity known as Bill Cipher."

Anti-Cosmo blinked in surprise. "Why, yes, actually. I have heard tales of the fellow. Dark tales of how he ravaged his home dimension and murdered its inhabitants." He smiled warmly at his next thought. "I often use that as a bedtime story for my son, when he has nightmares. He seems to like it."

"I didn't ask for an anecdote." He reached back into his coat and handed Anti-Cosmo a folded piece of paper. "These are instructions on how to summon Bill."

Puzzled, Anti-Cosmo took the paper but did not yet unfold it. He looked down at it curiously then glanced at Foop's ruined bottle in his other hand. "What exactly are you asking from me?"

"Bill is a threat. He is regaining his sanity and will soon tell my foes of my plans. I want you to turn him over to our side." _You mean to_ your _side, you animal._ "I'd do it myself, but I know that anti-fairies are less vulnerable to mind rape. I know that you're not an anti-fairy," Anti-Cosmo gritted his teeth, baring his fangs, "but you have enough anti-fairy blood that you should be fine."

"Fair point, fair point. Counterpoint: our kind are hypersensitive to mind rape," Anti-Cosmo pointed out.

"Bill's powers have been softened by an addiction he's getting off of. You shouldn't have any trouble."

"And, if I refuse?"

"Then, not only will I _not_ tell where your son is, but your wife will also pay." Anti-Cosmo paled and nearly dropped the paper and bottle. "You may think you've left me, but you're still mine. And, you know I don't take kindly to betrayal."

Anti-Cosmo shook in rage. "You're _sick_."

"And, _you_ have a choice to make."

So, his options were: somehow manage to turn a monster over to an arguably bigger monster, or potentially lose two of the only people he genuinely loved. " _Fine_ ," he snarled. "I'll deal with your little demon. Now, tell me where my son is."

Guardian pulled out another piece of paper - How much did he carry in that coat? - and handed it to him. "Everything you need to know is written here. I wish you luck."

"Wishing an anti-fairy luck is the equivalent of telling him to disgrace himself," Anti-Cosmo informed, taking the paper.

"Then, it's a good thing there aren't any anti-fairies around to hear it." With that, Guardian walked away.

Anti-Cosmo watched him go for a moment before growling and slamming the window shut, now holding the bottle and papers in one hand. That bastard was positively insane. Still, Anti-Cosmo smirked to himself. Summon Bill Cipher? After all he'd heard about the demon, he'd sooner cavort with unicorns. He'd simply find his son and...maybe keep the summoning instructions for later use. Just in case he needed something that only a demon could provide.

But, perhaps that wasn't wise. Guardian had eyes in Lord knows how many places. Perhaps there was a way for him to work around this. Maybe get the demon on _his_ side, use Bill to spy on Guardian for him. Yes, yes, that could work. Probably.

But, it would have to wait. Anti-Cosmo needed to find his son before anything else.

"Fooooop!"

Oh, no.

Carrying a box wrapped in dark purple paper, Anti-Wanda flew into the living room, blissfully unaware of what was going on. "Sweetie pie," she called in that familiar Southern drawl, "Mommy brought you a present!" Then her crooked-toothed smile fell on her husband. She flew over and kissed his cheek. "Hi, hun. You know where Foop is? My sister had this box of our old baby stuff that she was just gonna throw into the lava fields, and I found my favorite toy from when I was a babe. I thought our little bundle of hate might like to have it."

Now, just what was he going to tell her?

Anti-Wanda frowned guiltily. "Oh, is the little darlin' takin' a snooze? Sorry. I didn't realize it was nap time. I'll yell quieter."

Anti-Cosmo sighed. She was going to find out anyway. "Dearest, um, we have a problem."

"Does it involve someone eating the last piece of cheesecake?" Anti-Wanda asked. "'Cause it was definitely _not_ me. It was delicious, by the way. Not the last piece. Uh, some other piece."

She had to have been the most innocent anti-fairy in the universe. "Um… So, Foop's not here." Anti-Wanda tilted her head and frowned. Anti-Cosmo swallowed hard. "Yeah, so… It seems that he kind of ended up in another dimension." He chuckled nervously. "Oops?"

" _What_?" Anti-Wanda dropped the box and gaped at him in horror. "Please tell me this here's a mean joke!"

Anti-Cosmo's heart broke at the sheer terror on her face. "No joke, I'm afraid."

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. " _What are we going to do_!?"

"D-Don't panic, honey," he said, prying her hands off his body. "I know what dimension he's in. We just have to get there and find him."

Anti-Wanda calmed down slightly. "How do you what dimension he's in?"

Suddenly, he remembered that she didn't know about Guardian. "Do you want to play Twenty Questions, or do you want to find our son?"

Anti-Wanda picked up the wrapped box. "I choose son! Now, where the holy hell is our baby!?"

 **YOZNV GSV ZIHLM ULI GSV URIV.**

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 **I plan to reveal Guardian's identity at the very end of Season Two, though I'm not quite when that will be. I will say this: Guardian is someone we already know. Do you have any theories on who he might be? If so, I'd love hear them! Or, read them, in this particular case.**

 **Oh, oh! And, I think you should check out the lyrics to the song _Lucy_ by Skillet. It contains a big hint at something else that happens at the end of Season Two.**

 **Review, everyone!**


	24. Dashed Hope

**And, we return to the general strangeness that is this fanfic. Things are starting to heat up in this chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three: Dashed Hope**

 _Dimension 52_

It's not easy for anti-fairies to _poof_ to other universes, and it's outright _impossible_ for them to do it alone. Their bodies simply weren't strong enough to handle such a large burst of power. If you had told Anti-Cosmo that he and his wife would have to travel to another world to rescue their son, Anti-Cosmo would have rolled his eyes and told you to save such fantasies for your therapist.

Sadly, these circumstances were anything but normal.

Anti-Cosmo wasn't entirely sure where they were...assuming they were even in the right dimension. But, he wasn't really capable of pondering much at the moment. The huge outflux of magic had left him barely conscious enough to keep his eyes (slightly) open, and he imagined his wife wasn't faring much better. This wouldn't do at all. How were they supposed to find their child when they couldn't even move?

Suddenly, a brown blob obscured his vision. Mother of the Axolotl, he could hardly even _see_! Of course, that could have been because his monocle had fallen off his face.

"Whoa, you dudes don't look so good," the blob said worriedly. It sounded male, and it must have been stupid if it felt the need to inform him that they looked terrible. "Can-Can you talk, dude? Can you tell me what happened?"

Anti-Cosmo blinked a few times, feeling the fog lift itself from his mind. "And, why should I?" His voice was weaker than he'd wanted it to be, but at least he could speak.

Based on the brown blur's motion, Anti-Cosmo guessed that the creature was scratching its head. "Well, I saw you two in the grass behind my mansion-slash-makeshift-apartment-building, and you looked kinda dead. Also, the girl-dude may...actually be dead?"

Panic gave Anti-Cosmo enough energy to roll on to his side and look at his wife. Anti-Wanda was out cold, her head turned toward him and her mouth opened slightly. Fortunately, the steady rise and fall of her chest told him that she was alive. He reached over and gently shook her shoulder.

She moaned quietly and turned her head, muttering, "I wanna sleep forever."

"Oh, she's alive," the creature announced. "That's a big relief."

Strength slowly returning, Anti-Cosmo carefully propped himself up on his elbows - ignoring the soreness of his, well, everything - and felt the grass for his monocle. Once he found it, he placed it over his eye and finally got a decent look at the brown creature, who appeared to be an enormous anthropomorphic gopher. "Listen, you," Anti-Cosmo told it. "I'm going to ask you something, and I'm only asking nicely because I don't currently have the energy for violence and death threats."

" _Blarg_!" Anti-Wanda blurted out, now fully awake and unintentionally emphasizing her husband's words. "My body is painful!"

"Pay attention, dear," he told her gently. "This is something you'll want to know as well." His tone hardened as he returned his attention to the very confused gopher. "We're looking for someone. He is a small cubic boy with purple eyes and premature facial hair." Anti-Wanda immediately perked up. "Have you seen anyone like that?"

The gopher hummed in thought. "Does this dude have a deep voice and say a lot of loud, hammy monologues?"

Hope sprouted in Anti-Cosmo's chest. "Yes! Yes, indeed."

Anti-Wanda bolted upright and grinned. "H-Have ya seen hi- Oh! Oh, I sat up too fast."

"Uh, yeah, I saw him," the gopher answered wearily. "Some friends of mine were trying to help him get back to his dimension. They took the little dude to Mighty Med."

Mighty Med. Of course. That hospital had portals to a lot of dimensions, so it made sense that Foop would be brought there. Anti-Cosmo shakily stood up, feeling stronger but not quite well enough to fly. He offered a hand to Anti-Wanda, who took it gratefully and got to her feet.

Her pink eyes gazed pleadingly at the gopher. " _Please_ take us to the portal there! Foop's our _son_!"

The gopher's beady black eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you're- Oh, oh dude. Don't worry. I-I'll take you dudes there right now. My name's Larman, by the way."

"I'm Anti-Wanda," she introduced. "This here's my hubby, Anti-Cosmo."

"And, for the Axolotl's sake," Anti-Cosmo said, rolling his eyes, " _please_ stop calling us _dudes_."

* * *

 _Dimension JET98_

"I don't know about this," Horace said wearily. "I've never really trusted anti-fairies. How do you know this one isn't up to no good?"

Tad had suggested taking Foop to Mighty Med, claiming that the place had portals to several dimensions. This allowed them to accept patients from across the multiverse. Although the hospital did not have portals to _every_ dimension, it was still a good place to start looking for Foop's world. So, now they were at the interdimensional hospital, and Foop was gazing at everything with poorly hidden childlike wonder and touching everything he could get his hands on.

Such as the stethoscope sitting on the reception desk, which he picked up and examined, asking, "Hey, is this thing meant for strangling or just shoving down people's throats?"

" _Give me that_!" the humanoid doctor snapped, yanking it from the infant's chubby fingers. "This is _not_ a toy!"

Foop's matter-of-fact reply was simply, "When you're nine months old, _everything_ is a toy."

"Horace," Ford began as Violet tried to keep Foop from pushing all the buttons on a defibrillator, "As Foop has just pointed out, he's a _baby_."

Nadia nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he needs to go home, be with his parents."

"And, how do you know his parents aren't involved with this?" Horace asked.

Ford immediately thought of Foop's earlier breakdown. He opened his mouth to respond, but Tad beat him to it. "Come on, Horace. What parents would let their _nine-month-old_ enter a foreign dimension by himself?"

"And, how do you know he's by himself?"

Foop huffed, no longer interested in buttons (much to Violet's relief). "For badness' sake, man! If you know what's good for you, you hippocratic _oaf_ , you'll return me to my world. Otherwise, word of your insolence will surely make its way back to my father, who, might I add, is the ruler of Anti-Fairy World-"

Horace's widened comically. "Anti-Cosmo is your father?"

"Um, yes." Foop was clearly surprised that the doctor knew his father. "Apparently, you know him."

"Do I _ever_!" Ford smiled. Perhaps now Horace would be sympathetic. But, then the doctor said to the infant, "Come along, little guy. Let's get you cubed."

Foop raised an eyebrow. "Say what now?"

Violet's weary response voiced everyone's thoughts. "Um, is that necessary?"

Horace sighed. "You're right. He's already a cube. It would just be redundant." He grinned. "So, we'll make him into a paperweight!"

" _Or_ ," Starclops drawled, "we could get him home so that he can stop asking us bleventeen questions."

Foop shrugged helplessly. "I'm a baby, and I've never been to another dimension before. Can you blame me for being curious? On an unrelated note, Starclops, are your points sharp enough to kill people? If so, I may need your assistance, come February 3rd. In my world, that's the beginning of Destroy the Weak Week."

Starclops nodded. "Oh yeah, I've accidentally killed people multiple times."

Tad made a throat-clearing sound. "Getting back to the matter at hand. Horace, would you please tell us how we can get Foop back to his world."

Horace scowled but hummed in thought. "Well, I can't stand Foop's father...but I'm afraid of what Foop's mother will do to me if she finds out I did nothing to help her son."

"Mummy can be feisty, when she wants to be," Foop commented.

"Fine," Horace conceded. "I'll help." He narrowed his brown eyes at the anti-fairy. "But, I'm watching you, anti-fairy."

Foop shook his head and laughed. "Look at you, acting tough. I don't think you truly know who I am. I am Anti-Poof Anti-Nebula Anti-Cosma. I am feared! I am despised! And, most importantly, I am wet! Someone change my diaper!"

Suddenly, a loud siren went off. The lighting turned red. Doctors and nurses scattered to the nearest exits, moving the patients they could and protecting the patients they couldn't.

The group let out surprised yelps and instinctively shrank back. Foop flailed his arms wildly and cried out, "Wailing sounds! Panicked crying! What's happening!?"

Tad was the first to recover from the shock. "What's going on, Horace? Are we under attack? Please don't say that's the fire alarm!"

To their immense surprise, Horace simply waved dismissively, as the siren's call faded away. "Relax. That was just a routine test."

The group let out relieved breaths. "A test of what?" Violet asked. "Smoke detectors? Burglar alarms?"

"A test to see how loud and panicky people get, when you set off a terrifyingly loud alarm!" They stared at him blankly. "What? I was curious." The alarm went off again. Upon seeing the group's annoyed looks, Horace stated, " _That_ is an alarm you should worry about."

 **ULI VEVIB VERO, GSVIV RH Z TIVZGVI VERO.**

* * *

 **Oh, Horace. You're so casual about imminent danger. What set off the alarm? Review to find out!**


End file.
